Primary Days
by Sumioney
Summary: Post-series. "Thank you very much for gathering for today's marriage meeting," says the officiator, grinning proudly between the Avatar and On Ji, one of whom, with a sigh, has slumped over in utter unhappiness. Aanji, Zutara, Sukka. HIATUS.
1. Prologue

FINALE, CADENCE  
**PROLOGUE**: _halcyon_

Life had not changed much on the outside.

School was still punctually attended, rules still strictly enforced, and hide-and-explode still a favorite of the children. She, however, was no longer a part of the life that had so little changed. She was no longer a twelve-year-old girl with sheltered eyes–not since Kuzon vanished. Years had rolled by like dust, smoky and quick. They had flown by as fast as Kuzon had come and gone, before she could even blink. And, while life had not changed, in some ways she had. In some ways she was stronger, more cheerful, and more sincere, more captivated by things she had been taught to ignore–expression, color, seasons, and beauty, among others. On Ji had changed, and she had not. She had made subtle, honest alterations within herself, changes Kuzon has prompted.

The Fire Nation had not changed as much as she had expected it to. After a startling loss of the war by the hands of the Avatar, the Fire Nation was humiliated. For years, nearly one hundred, the nation had boasted their inevitable victory throughout the land–they backed their claims with siege and conquer. In truth, On Ji was almost relieved that her home nation lost the Great War. No longer was she obligated to surrender her life to Fire Lord Ozai, or to enlist in the Fire military. She had enough wit to not repeat it to another soul, but the war frightened her.

She was not sure why she thought the nation would change so greatly–perhaps she had wanted it to? Although it was evident that her people were freer, and less inclined to be altruistic to the Fire Lord, she was not sure what else in the nation had changed. The war had seen an end a few years earlier; the following month marked Fire Lord Zuko's fifth year as the Fire Lord, after he and the avatar overthrew the previous Fire Lord. On Ji would not miss the stoic and cruel Fire Lord Ozai. He had always stared at her unflappably from behind the history instructor in grade school–his look alone froze her into submission. Zuko, his exiled son, marked a time of changed, and his look was softer, kinder. The new Fire Lord poured his heart and time into restoring the Fire Nation to its former glory, before Sozen had unhinged the balance of the world.

It struck On Ji suddenly, drawing on about Fire Lord Zuko. As unchanged as things in her homeland seemed on the outside, that was just how greatly they had changed within. Her people were liberated, something the other nations might never grasp–the citizens of the Fire Nation were under Ozai's oppression, too. Where Ozai demanded complete allegiance and servitude of his people, or else, Zuko requested loyalty free of subservience. They were finally free and autonomous.

On Ji had secretly been envious when Kuzon told her about his life in the colonies. There, they danced, laughed, and expressed. No one openly admitted their jealousy, but On Ji knew that even her teachers grew green-eyed by his stories, his expression, and by his life–he was a normal kid, in the clearest sense. And, even though others resented his lifestyle, he happily shared it with everyone willing through the dances he loved so much–On Ji always remembered.

And now, seventeen, she wondered what had become of Kuzon.

And, while most girls her age were preparing for dates and matchmaking appointments, she found herself at the mouth of an archaic and forgotten cave–the place she had been liberated before the end of the war, by the simple act of dancing. She had found herself here on previous occasions, several in fact. It was a place that calmed her, a place that helped her remember Kuzon just a little better–remember what he had taught her.

As she skipped into the middle of the cavern, the convenient earth chairs, tables, and platform (where the Flameos played) still intact, she felt like she was a twelve year old girl again, learning to live. That was the extent, on the surface, of what Kuzon had done for her, for all of them–taught them to live. More than hoping she would meet him again someday, On Ji wished she would have the chance to thank him properly, something she knew they all secretly pined for. Despite that, On Ji bent her arms against her ribs, her lines clean, and squatted. With a long breath, she outstretched her bent knees, pirouetting on one foot, keeping the other flat, and leaped into a dance Kuzon had taught them: The Phoenix Flight. She had spent years trying to master the Chamelephant Strut, but she could never quite remember Kuzon's exact movements.

She always tried, though.

Closing her hands and digits into a linear angle, On Ji jumped high, striking each hand left and right. When she thought to herself she was getting it a little better, her left foot touched the soil in an odd position, causing her to lose balance. On Ji watched the top of the alcove, her body resting against the dusty earth of the cave. She was so sure she had, had it, the Chamelephant Strut, only for her legs to give way like glass–she was still too fragile for the beautiful dance after all. With a deep breath, the Fire Nation girl closed her eyes. "I'll never get it right," On Ji huffed.

"Don't worry; you just messed up a bit with your stance." A voice mentioned cheerfully from the entrance of the cavern.

On Ji gasped up from her place, clods merging with her garb. Jumping to her feet, On Ji blinked repeatedly, ready to speak, but was interrupted.

"Instead of keeping your left foot stiff and sideways, keep on your toes, and make your foot straight." On Ji stood in silence, awed by the vision before her: The Avatar, wrapped in orange and yellow monk clothing, set his stick against the earth to demonstrate his advice. She recognized him from the posters in her town, and from seeing him, only once, on a school trip to the Fire Lord's annual War Memorial Speech. The Avatar, Aang, had said a few words himself, but shied away from the attention. She never imagined beholding him some closely.

After he showed her the correct movements, On Ji stood there with no response. The Avatar frowned. "Why aren't you trying?" He asked.

"Uh," On Ji watched him unsurely, but did as he beckoned, "Sure."

After trying it again, On Ji squeaked. "I did it!" And, she had. Delighted by her results, after years of practice, she jumped in circles around her landing spot, enthused.

"You did!" The Avatar echoed.

On Ji suddenly paused. "Avatar, uh, _sir_, what are you–?" She was unable to find the proper words. She was once again struck with the notion she had met him before…

"Oh!" The cheery Avatar grinned, "I was in the area with Sokka, so I thought it would be fun to see it again. He wouldn't come with me, though–he found sword shop in the market, or something. So, I came by to see it this cave by myself."

As to instruct, On Ji pointed her index finger towards him. "Dance," On Ji began, only for Aang to finish.

"Is an expression of one's self that no one can ever take away from you." He was rather pleased with his wisdom, his natural philosophical genius, being the Avatar and all.

Only then did she ask, before her mind even thought to think of it. "Kuzon?"

With a snort, Kuzon picked up the Phoenix Flight, leaving her answer in the air.

* * *

© Disclaimer: I own nothing from Avatarverse,  
All characters, places, and quotes remain the intellectual and  
creative property of whoeverthey belong to, which, if you  
did not catch, is not me.

Fail! Epic, EPIC, FAIL! This is a copy-past from a oneshot from my account "Lunamaria" Halcyon. I decided to make this part the prologue for "Finale, Cadence". I'm going to make Suki and Mio write the other chapters with me, so BE PREPARED for some epicness.

REVIEW, PLS?

¤ _composed by __lunamaria_.


	2. On Ji

_Primary Days  
_Chapter 1: On Ji

"You'll be graduating from the academy soon, On Ji, dear."

Xi Kang was statuesque and refined, a woman known for both her pluck and her social graces, beautiful and willowy but with a sharp tongue and an even sharper mind. Keen, undaunted and clever, Xi Kang was a woman to be feared but also to be loved – the best kind of woman, On Ji thought. On Ji loved the entirety of her mother's unforgiving ways, and emulated them; yet she was known to be of a more reserved nature than her boldly cut mother. She was intelligent, just as her mother, but less assertive and far gentler. More like her father, some said.

With a nostalgic sigh, Xi Kang smoothed a tendril behind her ear and into her braid. It coiled around the base of her neck like a Fire Horn, ready to bellow any heavy song it wished to play. On Ji stole a glance at Xi then, an eyebrow raised at her sudden huff of air. She paused to admire her mother's skin, paler than the Moon Lilies that grew in the nearby valley. In comparison, On Ji's skin was a soft brown, like her father's.

"I thought you were excited?" On Ji remarked.

Xi Kang looked up and smiled, dazzling her daughter. "Of course, On Ji. It simply," she gestured into the air, at nothing in particular, "makes one remember."

She didn't really need to ask. She knew what her mother was remembering; it was always the same. But On Ji couldn't help it, couldn't fight the want to relive a piece of her mother's past. So she asked: "What are you thinking about?"

"I know I've told you this before, On Ji," Xi Kang said dismissively, waving her hand again, "and it's been so long, I daresay I'm the only one who truly remembers it."

"I remember it," said On Ji, and, truly, she did. She remembered rainy afternoons cooped inside with nothing to do but utterly useless needlework. It wasn't a particularly prized skill to either of her parents, but several of On Ji's similarly ranked classmates were, in the very least, proficient. It stood to reason that On Ji should at least attempt her hand at embroidery and the like. But on special afternoons, Xi Kang would allow a story or two, tales of the past spun on her silver tongue.

Xi Kang allowed another, smaller smile and conceded. "Which one would you like today?"

"Ozai and Ursa," said On Ji. It was her favorite, after all. Xi Kang nodded knowingly at her daughter. Of course.

"As you know, I was, for a short time, betrothed to the last Fire Lord," Xi Kang began, flattening another loose piece of hair, dark as ink. "It was a very long time ago…"

"When you were younger," On Ji supplied.

"Yes, when I was young. And it was then that crown prince Ozai began courting me. It was a tremendous honor as you might imagine, On Ji, to be chosen out of countless eligible noblewomen. Your aunt was quite jealous for a time," Xi Kang admitted proudly.

On Ji nodded, but, even still, imagined no such honor. Though she adored the way in which her mother glowed at such a prize, On Ji doubted it an opportunity she herself would have dreamed after. However, knowing the future is a luxury she, and not Xi Kang, had been allowed. "And father?"

"Yes, well, at the same time your father was serving under Azulon's stead as a Lieutenant. I, of course, didn't know then, but he…he was very fond of me, your father. But, you see, Ozai always kept me under his careful eye; he was a very guarded man, On Ji, always watching over the things he owned. I hadn't even a moment to notice your poor father. Such a lovesick solider," Xi Kang said, and then paused. "Isn't that right, On Ping?"

On Ji glanced up to see the entrance of her father, dressed formally in the red and brown attire of the Fire Lord's advisors.

"Yes, dear," On Ping grinned at On Ji, teasing a piece of Xi Kang's dark braid. This was a weekly, sometimes daily, routine: when Xi Kang reminisced, and it seemed as though On Ji might not believe her mother or she might forget, Xi Kang called her husband to the battlefront. "In love with the prince's sweetheart, no less."

"However, as you know, Ozai's father took it upon himself to find a more – suitable match for his son." Xi Kang faltered, a small chip in her pride. "Ursa. While many things could be said of me, On Ji – well bred, beautiful, and well educated – I was not the daughter of Azulon's chief advisor. That was Ursa's honor, not mine. Azulon made that quite clear," Xi Kang sniffed, "and I suddenly found myself without Ozai's favor. And while it was quite a harrowing experience, I find myself ever thankful that I had not been allowed Ursa's fate."

Exiled, thought On Ji. Few spoke of it, for many knew of Fire Lord's Zuko temper whenever word of the incident surfaced. But they all knew the story.

"Did you love him?" was all On Ji managed. It was an odd thought, that her mother loved the man who aspired to set the world on fire.

Xi Kang didn't make an effort to mask her surprise, and neither did On Ping.

"Perhaps." Xi Kang straightened her shoulders. "But that was too long ago, and I've seen what became of him. I'd want no part."

Before curious On Ji could say another word, On Ping settled next to his daughter. "That's quite enough, On Ji."

He spoke gently, firmly, and On Ji nodded, disheartened. "Yes."

Xi Kang disturbed the silence that had since consumed the small, close family. "How was the Fire Lord today, Ping?"

At this On Ping grinned, stroking his chin, calculating. "Very well today, Xi Kang. I'll be sure to send him your love. Yours as well, On Ji."

After serving just over five years under Azulon and then Ozai, whereupon he had initially entered in as Lieutenant and left as Lieutenant Colonel, On Ping had been transferred into the Fire Palace as a strategist, an adviser. Not only had On Ping married the Fire Lord's almost-fiancée, Xi Kang, but he also had an intellect that surpassed common smarts. He was patient and decisive, ideal for his new position. It was no secret that Ozai's past affections for the Fire Nation beauty might have had a hand in On Ping's promotions, but it was also readily apparent that the Fire Lord's newest advisor was, favor or not, well suited to his newest duties.

"Thank you," Xi Kang nodded, adding, "and your news, Ping? You're smiling like a Fire Toad."

The small family of On Ping, Xi Kang and On Ji, received pleasure in a little sport – a rather frivolous pastime that often rendered On Ping at the losing end. The simple objective of their game was to, essentially, return with the best gossip. That is, _factual _gossip. Although the capitol of the Fire Nation was bustling, exciting, and provocative, flashy news was not always so easy to stumble upon. On Ji had just emerged victorious last week for reporting the fight of their neighbors, Tseng and Shuai, regarding the manner in which their newest hand arranged her robes. It was an unintentional find, but anyone within a block's distance could catch the acidic words of Tseng as she accused her husband of wandering eyes. It had been a slow week, admittedly.

On Ji was shocked to see the gossip she was turning into, but couldn't help but let it slip. She was a breath away from graduation and such simple, vain pleasures would soon be hard to come by. The game itself never had a set time, and it was only engaged when a challenge was issued – usually via On Ping. Xi Kang usually won, showing little mercy to her husband of twenty years. With a newsmonger like her sister, Xi had merely listen on in order to secure her almost constant victories. Still, both mother and daughter always humored the simple, yet sharply intuitive, On Ping when he swore he would conquer the nameless, senseless pastime.

On Ping challenged Xi Kang once more. "Well," he grinned, "as you know, today was the meeting in order to finalize the plans for the Wuan Bridge reconstruction. "

"Yes, you mentioned it," Xi Kang said.

"Well, it all went along smoothly – the Fire Lord approved the plans, the council agreed, and we drew up the labor contracts and everything–"

"Go on."

"Yes, of course, my news. After the meeting, we heard some of the guard – incurable gossips, really – prattling on about our young Fire Lord. _Right_ outside of his own council chambers, mind you," said On Ping. "And, of course, who should hear but Fire Lord Zuko himself, on his way to another meeting. And I tell you; I hardly knew what he would do. He just as often pretends he's heard nothing at all, which is the best way to go about it, if I do say so myself."

"Anyhow," On Ping continued, "next thing we know, he's got one of his guards begging for mercy, pinned right against the council doors. He was quite livid. Though, under the circumstances, we could hardly chastise him."

Xi Kang fixed her almond eyes on her husband. "The circumstances?"

"We had all heard it, what the guardsmen were saying – about the Fire Lord's current plans of… engagement. And, quite frankly, it wasn't particularly shocking; word in the palace does have a way of getting around. Though before the poor fellow was subdued, he did have something interesting to say. About a bride, that is."

"Yes, On Ping?" encouraged Xi.

"_Apparently_, Fire Lord Zuko is merely weeks away from announcing his intentions regarding marriage, which we advisers had been suspecting some time now. The Fire Lord is a young man, mind you, and his lack of diligence in finding a Fire Lady after he and Lady Mai separated drew quite a bit of speculation – and worry. But, if the word is to be believed, we needn't worry. Now I," On Ping brought a hand to his chest, "do not usually put much stock in the validity of palace gossip, but if the Fire Lord's unusual break in temper is any indication, we may see him married yet."

On Ji thought for a moment and asked, "Wouldn't you know, Papa? You're an advisor."

On Ping smiled and said, "Yes, On Ji, but primarily in matters of state and foreign policy. It has long since been the unspoken tradition that the council members would be hecklers of the Fire Lord's private affairs. Only occasionally are us advisors pulled from our business to tiptoe in council matters, Xianqins and the like."

On Ping leaned in closer then, into the messy circle he, Xi Kang and On Ji comfortably formed. "So, only briefly do I see into the window of the Fire Lord's personal matters. But it _was_ said, and this is the very detail that set him off, that his interest had been captivated by one of his own advisors, a foreigner no less. And, unless he has an unhealthy regard for the middle-aged great niece of Omashu's king, it was not very difficult to guess who."

"An advisor," said Xi Kang, "one of his allies?"

"Precisely. A daughter of the Water Tribes," said On Ping. "And although he has made nothing official of his intentions to my knowledge, today's spectacle spoke volumes. Girls, he just took one look at her and the guard and exploded like a Fire Beetle, threatening eavesdroppers till the breath was gone from him."

"Have you met her?" On Ji interrupted anxiously.

"I have." On Ping touched his chocolate beard, muttering a curse beneath his breath at the sight of subtle, cinder-colored streaks. "She attended the Wuan Bridge meeting today; she is, after all, one of the Fire Lord's foreign diplomats."

Xi Kang peered at her husband. "Is she lovely?"

On Ping thought of her as he had seen her in the meeting, having cast a brief glance her way, and wondered. She stood out from the others, dressed in blue and with tumbling dark hair kept secured behind her head. He nodded. "Quite. She is remarkably Water Tribe, in every sense; it could even be thought of as compromising to her position in the Fire Lord's cabinet. Yet she mingled with the other advisors superbly – very hard to be cordial, as she was, to a nation whom you were once at war with," said On Ping. "She has a not-so-common beauty – like you, Xi Kang – and is very bright, like my On Ji."

On Ping paused to grin arrogantly at his wife and daughter, sure that he had claimed an unyielding victory. "And what do you think of _that_news?"

Xi Kang sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose tenderly. "Ah, Papa," Xi Kang said. "You are so slow."

On Ping frowned, and guessed: "Your sister was here today?"

* * *

_Earlier_.

"Marriage is in the air, I do believe."

On Ji, discreetly drying a bowl with a washcloth while she sat in the middle of the kitchen, glanced up to see her mother and her aunt conversing over tea. Her mother, eyes sparkling beneath dark hair, turned her head, and warily On Ji followed her gaze.

"Oh? And what makes you say that, sister?"

A conspiratorial gleam was exchanged between the two. Sighing and setting the bowl away from her, On Ji folded her hands in her lap and demurely waited for her aunt to extrapolate. Both sisters were flagrant gossips, after all. She got her taciturnity from her father, with just a dash of nosiness.

"The Fire Prince has finally caved. He wants to take a bride, for the good of our proud nation and for his proud heart." Her aunt chuckled while Xi Kang knowingly shook her head, as if either could know of the hardships of a royal. On Ji smiled, amused at the scene – how two women, intelligent by all accounts, should choose to spend the afternoon lost in the dry conundrums of their young Fire Lord.

"I didn't think it was possible," Xi Kang remarked wistfully, glancing away from her tea and out the window. "I was absolutely appalled when he and Lady Mai went their separate ways…why, I couldn't even imagine the Fire Lord being able to love after that!"

A wicked grin crossed her aunt's face. "Well, the past is the past, Xi," she said, "and if the gossip is true – and I'm fairly sure it is – the Fire Lord's eyes have not fallen on a Fire Princess. Indeed, the very girl he seeks could be the cause for his untimely split with Lady Mai."

Xi Kang looked scandalized. "An _affair_?"

Calmly, Xi Kang's sister sipped her tea. "It hasn't been verified, but it's entirely possible – a man gets lonely in love. But…I have yet to tell you the best part." The china shook a little as her aunt set it on the saucer, betraying her underlying excitement. "This woman is rumored to be from the Water Tribes." A hushed "_no!_" slipped from Xi Kang's lips while her sister beamed. "I am absolutely _serious_. It's also said that she is one of his advisors, an ally of the Avatar himself – think of it Xi!" On Ji's aunt was glowing. She loved nothing more than good gossip and talk of the Avatar.

"Imagine. Fire Nation and Water Tribe. Five years ago, who would have _heard_of such a thing? Tell me, sister. Where have you gleaned this information? From Koza?"

"Yes, _straight_ from Koza. He said it's so obvious once you know to look at them, but that the Fire Lord was trying to keep it all," she brought a finger to her pursed lips, "quiet. But, you know how the guards are – give them nothing to do and they will chatter like little old biddies."

"Yes, well, I still find it rather shocking," said Xi. "A foreigner, and from the Water Tribes."

"Well, the Fire Lord is taking preemptive measures for the very concerns you – _and_I at one point," modestly, On Ji's aunt motioned to her breast, "feel. It is rumored that his intended, while presently without title, is not without position. That is, in her native land. For all intents and purposes, our Fire Lord wants to verify his loyal… friend; that is, if Koza is to believed."

"Naturally," Xi Kang responded with a smile, cradling her cup within her palms. "A very intelligent move on our Fire Lord's part, you must admit. What a way to temper the international tension. I have high hopes for him."

Silently, On Ji nodded in agreement. She did not know much about Fire Lord Zuko, but his friends loved him, and many of his men honored him. She did not bother to give thought to the conservatives around town who longed for the days of war when their nation had been at its peak under the usurped ruler, Ozai.

"The Avatar is even invited!" her aunt gushed with overwhelming excitement, having spent for too many minutes suppressing her news. The tea sloshed onto the table as, upon picking up the cup, she immediately set it on the saucer, her mouth too full of words to pause for drink. "What a ceremony that will be, don't you agree? The Avatar him_self_. Who…" On Ji felt her skin crawl the moment her aunt's messenger-hawk eyes pierced her to the core. Sitting straighter than she had been, On Ji lifted her chin and watched her aunt turn back to Xi Kang with a growing look of satisfaction. "…is a very eligible bachelor, might I add."

Her stomach flopped, and her mind filled with images of hand movements, dancing feet, and Kuzon's chocolate eyes – Kuzon, whose image twisted and warped into a tall, lean-muscled young man with blue tattoos and ceremonial robes. She could feel her cheeks heating, and in embarrassment she threw her gaze into her lap.

"Yes, but you are a married woman, Sister," Xi Kang teased, brushing obsidian locks out of warm and dancing eyes. "And far too mature for such a child. You'd eat the poor thing alive."

Girlish laughter spilled from her aunt's lips. "No, no, not me, Xi Kang. If you haven't yet noticed, your daughter is of marrying age." She lowered her voice, but On Ji's burning ears could still pick apart every word spoken. "Do you not agree that such an arrangement would make a powerful couple?"

Xi Kang pursed her lips in thought, her keen eyes flashing toward her daughter. On Ji, leaping in her skin under her mother's gaze, turned her head away and gazed beyond the windows to the backyard garden. "Well…" Xi Kang was stalling as she turned back to her sister. "I can hardly think of parting with my On Ji so soon, even if she is already a young woman," her mother stated thoughtfully. "And should she marry the Avatar, her home could be very far away."

"Yes, but think of the wealth. The notoriety. The _prestige_, Xi Kang. The Avatar is no ordinary man. He is a great bender."

Xi Kang chuckled. "That may be so, but I'm not sure I am ready for grandchildren with such _great_ears."

On Ji blushed fiercely and shot her aunt and mother an unbelieving glance. Surely she did not seem _so_invisible that the two felt safe to talk about her married life and the fruits that would or would not come out of it? She couldn't even imagine…and with Kuzon…that was…

Her face flared, and she pressed her hand in mortification against her eyes, trying to soothe away the feverish emotions that now pulsed within her blood.

"Great ears he may have, but I've also heard that he has a fine falsetto voice, much like the hollow of an oak tree. They say he can yodel, as well – enough to keep dear On Ji entertained, I'm sure." Xi Kang bit back a chuckle in disbelief, and On Ji fidgeted in silence. Who had fed her aunt such slanderous tales? Before her mother could voice any concerns, however, her sister added, "His voice should more than compensate for those webbed toes of his," all the while flouncing and nearly catapulting her tea across the table.

"_Webbed toes_?" both On Ji and Xi Kang spat, and quite unbecomingly so. On Ji would not be surprised if her face was as pallid as the bed sheets hanging on the line beyond their window.

The color livened her cheeks in the passing of a second, however, as she flushed a light shade and fiddled anxiously with the hands in her lap. She was sure that she would faint at any moment, should she hear another word escape from her aunt.

A trilling laughter tumbled forth from Xi Kang's lips as her mingled expression of shock and horror fled. "Come, Sister. An airbender with webbed toes? The very thought is ludicrous!"

On Ji's aunt waved her hand at the notion that she had erred in any way. "It is entirely possible. Our knowledge of the Air Nomads is quite limited in scope." Yearningly, her aunt sighed, and On Ji had to bite back the urge to roll her eyes. "But if you'll pardon the expression, I'm quite certain the Avatar and your On Ji will make wonderful music together." Tickled by her joke, Xi Kang's sister laughed.

_He does play the Sungi horn with wonderful expression_, On Ji wanted to interject, but she wisely held her tongue. No doubt her aunt would burst at the seams at the newest gossip.

Besides, who was to say that Kuzon had any relation at all to the Avatar? All she knew about the master bender was that he was close friends with the Fire Lord and had spirit in his eyes that uncannily reminded her of the boy from her past who had shown her how to dance. Otherwise, he was nothing but a stranger.

"My On Ji with the Avatar…" On Ji stiffened at her mother's caving tone, her skin prickling as she lifted beseeching eyes to the beautiful woman sitting halfway across the kitchen. Her gaze was elsewhere, however, searching the eyes as her lips crooked in thought. "Surely she is far too quiet for such an uproarious marriage…"

"She shall surely learn the steps quickly, my dear Xi Kang." Inwardly, On Ji snorted at the irony of her aunt's poetic mood. Perhaps the woman was not too far from the truth. "The Avatar is a patient teacher. And On Ji is illustriously born."

"I just don't know." Absently, her mother twirled an ebony lock of hair, the fair strands gleaming in the light from the sun. "Seventeen is a young age."

"Yes, but our own Fire Lord was crowned at sixteen, was he not?" Rising from her chair, her aunt gathered her skirts in a dignified fashion. "And I needn't crow about the Avatar any longer – his accomplishments speak for themselves." Smiling grandly, she pushed the chair toward the table and straightened her shoulders, her chin held stately and proudly in the air. "Thank you for the tea, Sister darling. I had a lovely afternoon." On Ji smiled timidly as her aunt tossed her an appraising glance. "You look as lovely as ever, On Ji."

"Thank you, Aunt," she responded graciously, lowering her eyes to hide her discomfort.

"Nonsense. Don't you just leave, Sister. I'll show you to the door." Xi Kang immediately rose out of her sheet, and On Ji's aunt made no objection about waiting.

"All I'm saying," her aunt rattled on as the two women swept out of the room, "is that your daughter would make a fine wife to any man, and yet she deserves far better. And the _Avatar_, why…"

Sighing, On Ji pursed her lips and dragged the bowl towards her, polishing it passionately in the silence. How she dreaded her aunt's frequent visits.

* * *

"Papa." Xi Kang brushed back her dark hair, calling towards her husband.

In the midst of folding down the bed sheets, On Ping paused, set to answer. "Yes, Xi?"

Xi Kang admired the mirror before her, shining glass framed by a complicated array of sterling and ruby stone. In its reflection she gently traced the lines that swirled over her cheeks and under her eyes, small indications of aging that would not deepen for a long time yet – strong women age beautifully, and not only in guise.

Setting her comb aside, Xi Kang turned, facing On Ping. "What do you think of the Avatar?"

On Ping paused, started. "The _Avatar?_"

True, Xi Kang was sharp, but On Ping couldn't have guessed that Fire Nation politics would, at any time, captivate Xi Kang's interest. His wife had made her disinterest in politics – "the ramblings of old, power-drunken men," as she had put it – known. Her concern in his work, in construction plans, tighter trade policies, regulation of the Fire Colonies and the like, were minimal, listened to with a bland interest. Very rarely, beyond a cursory question or two, did she initiate conversation about his thoughts on the characters of politicians, officials or, presently, the Avatar.

"_Personally_," Xi Kang added at his quizzical response.

"Well," On Ping heaved a heavy, long sigh, then inhaled. He'd spent a good many years planning the Avatar's capture and demise, and so it was strange to begin seeing him – a young airbending nomad – in any other light. "I've only met him on rare occasions, Xi. He's in the Earth Kingdom mostly, or keeping balance in the world, I suppose. You know– Avatar things, I'd wager. But from what I've gleaned, he's… very inexperienced."

Xi Kang listened closely as On Ping continued. "It's been hard to see him as anything but a child, even knowing what he is capable of. But, if word is to be believed, he is wise beyond his years and appearance. Truly, that is all I know."

"Does he seem nice, On Ping?" Xi Kang ran a palm through her hair.

What an odd question, thought On Ping.

"Very, he's exceptionally friendly. I do know that," he said. "He has spirit."

Xi Kang nodded, pleased. Perhaps what her sister has suggested was not as foolish an idea as Xi Kang had first thought. The Avatar would require further consideration – she would not give up her On Ji so willingly, even to so illustrious a person.

"Why do you ask, dear?" On Ping peered at his wife ominously, half-afraid of what her answer might be. Her expression was puzzling.

With a curt smile, Xi Kang shook her head, waving her hand. "_Nothing_, Papa."

On Ping didn't press the question, but he could surmise two things from his wife's sudden interest in the Avatar: that his sister-in-law had paid the household a visit today, and that he would learn of Xi Kang's cryptic intentions soon enough. Sooner than he wanted to know, he was sure.

* * *

© Disclaimer:

We own nothing from Avatarverse: All characters,  
places, and quotes remain the intellectual and  
creative property of whoever they belong to, which,  
if you did not catch, is not us.

_Re-written 2/17/12._

_I realize it's a lot of dialogue and info dump and there are bound to be canon anachronisms or things that don't quite match up, but I'm trying to build On Ji's life from the ground up here. Hopefully it makes _some _sense! Enjoy~_

HI! I'm the "Su" of Sumioney, Suki (or Gray-Rain Skies, who occasionally dabbles in the ATLA section - mainly for the Zutara). I'm only responsible for the "Earlier" section (which Courtney had to help me with, since writer's block ate my mind momentarily), so I tried, but all the credit for this tale goes to Courtney. She's the brains behind this operation. I simply pick up my fingers and tap away on the keyboard when I want to help out on a certain scene. Sure is fun, though, lol. SO READ THIS, PLEASE. It's awesome, just like Courtney. :D

AHEM, this is now the "ney" in Sumioney, Courtney (otherwise known as Lunamaria, who also sometimes dabbles in ATLA - Zutara and Sukka, mostly). Although I started the majority of this chapter, Suki will bust out some more cool words for chapter two, and she was the overseer of all things beta. She's _too _amazing to believe, really. And she's also a compulsive liar, becaust this is totally a joint effort and, without her, incomplete and not cool. Suki brings the cool. And I'm going to try and get the "Mio" of Sumioney here for the next chapter, too. LOOK FORWARD TO SOME EPIC-NESS! Anywho, the title is finally chosen, just see the amazing Maaya Sakamoto song and see why. STICK AROUND, yeshpls?

Review, PLS?

- Suki/Courtney of Sumioney


	3. Omiai

_Primary Days_  
Chapter 2: Omiai

"Move _over_," she groaned, shuffling beneath the sheets. She kept tossing them in the hope of finding a more comforting arrangement, but was met with little success. "You're in the way."

Their public image, which few people had bothered to observe, which few people _knew_ to observe – although word was beginning to catch on, as Zuko had warned – was something of a ruse. He would bow proudly, a humbled Fire Lord, and she would smile politely, a wise and worldly adviser. Meanwhile, when sleep ended up being a luxury more for the courtiers, the story was different for the Fire Lord and his closest companion. Having been raised in nothing more than a glorified ice cube, Katara had quickly discovered that she was extremely sensitive to the heat that frequented the Fire Nation and lingered even when summer had passed. This resulted in many sleepless nights for Katara, struggling with the heat, and Zuko, who was, by nature, a light sleeper.

Frowning, the Fire Lord lifted his head of shaggy locks halfway off the pillow, his jagged scar glistening beneath the light of a dim lamp. "Then go sleep on the floor," he grumbled, his eyes sleepy, narrowed slits. "'m tired."

He sucked in a frustrated breath when he was promptly struck across the arm. Rolling his good eye, Zuko turned over onto his side, giving Katara his back as she growled and angrily kicked off the sheets. "_You_ go sleep on the floor."

"I'm the Fire Lord," he grumbled darkly into his pillow as complaint. His skin crawled the moment he felt the heat of her glare on his back, and aimlessly he groped for the sheets, dragging them high over his head and hiding from her scouring gaze while he hoped to find reprieve in the darkness. His relief was short-lived, as immediately Katara yanked away the silken fabric and bunched it into a wrinkled mass at her knees. Cursing to his many ancestors and the Avatars of the past to give him patience, he finally rolled over and glowered at his blue-eyed fiancée, whose cheeks looked particularly flushed against the red of the bedroom walls, a light dribble of moisture trailing down her neck.

"I don't _care _that you're the Fire Lord. I'm hot and miserable and there are _way _too many sheets…and _by the_ _way_…" her voice was low, hissing, and he bit back a groan as she kicked her feet out from under the sheets and curled them over the sheets, her dampened locks slipping down her shoulder. He tried not to get distracted as she shifted her legs and rearranged her nightgown, but that was quickly proving difficult. "You did _not _just tell your future wifeto sleep on the _floor_."

Sighing, Zuko slumped his shoulders wearily, his fingers finding their way into his hair and tangling themselves into darkened strands. "Of course I didn't," he muttered diplomatically, shrewdly avoiding the piercing power of her eyes. It was a curious thing, the way she could freeze him to the core and boil his blood all with one glance from her sea-colored stare. "That would be stupid and insensitive."

Katara stiffened in growing aggravation, her head cocking as her hands bunched the silken sheets. Picking at the blankets, he wisely kept his head down, though he turned his bad eye away so that he could safely drink in her image with his peripheral vision. The way her eyes flashed and cheeks slightly puffed out almost urged a smile onto his lips, but he maintained his emotions, since he was on dangerous grounds. He was being _inconsiderate_ – it wouldn't be wise to push the disgruntled waterbender any further.

Her narrowed eyes closed, and she sighed in defeat. "What will you do when I leave?" Katara breathed heavily, but settled back into the mattress. She wasn't up for a fight tonight. The heat was like molasses on her skin, making her sluggish and irritable. Zuko adored the heat, of course – Katara had learned this from the many unbearable summers she'd spent at the Fire Palace – and felt nothing more than mild discomfort when temperatures elevated to unthinkable heights. He was a firebender, so she guessed it was understandable. Regardless, she was always tortured.

"Not sure." Zuko yawned large and round, and met her eyes again with a watery gaze.

Not since his split with Mai, or even before it, had Katara left the Fire Nation. Aang traveled like he should, usually with Sokka and Toph in tow, occasionally with Suki. Like old buddies they danced and howled in mud, swam with all manner of sea monsters and ate whatever the world had to offer them. Suki's adventures with the fine threesome were limited, as she spent considerable time back on Kiyoshi Island instructing, but even she got to see the world. Though Katara did not go anywhere, anywhere at all. She received visitors but was never a visitor herself. The Fire Nation had slowly become her home, and now that she was promised to marry its emperor, there would be no leaving.

When the war had just ended and she began her work as a liaison between the Fire Nation and Southern Water Tribe, she hadn't been able to understand why she wouldn't – even refused to – leave the Fire Nation. At that time, Zuko had only been a respectable figurehead, a notable ally, whom she'd had to pull away from Mai and drag off to important meetings with puffed out cheeks and rigid shoulders. He had been a friend with whom she'd reminisced on balconies, pointing out the stars that could guide her home as she traced her fingers over the ocean and related stories and myths from her childhood. He'd been someone to fight with, someone to lash out at when he tears had brimmed the lashes of her eyes, before he would sigh, look left and right, and drag her down the hall so that she could cry on his shoulder and he could lightly rub her back. They had only been friends, so she hadn't seen the reason why she wouldn't go along with Aang, why she wouldn't be with her brother, why she wouldn't speak of deep secrets with Toph. At first, she'd claimed it was her duty to stay. She was one of the few women honored with being adviser to the Fire Lord. But if she'd honestly wanted to, she could have joined an adventure or two; Zuko had made that clear, that she was by no means to feel that she ought to stay. But as every month crept by, the mystery of her steadfast loyalty grew.

Now, she was all too certain. The reason watched her with lightning eyes that glimmered like fireflies in the darkness, hovering sluggishly over an ocean of sheets. They spoke of the secret that she and Zuko shared.

They spoke of love.

Katara managed a small smile, not knowing what she would do without him, either. "Well, you should get more sleep, oh wise Fire Lord. You have an Omiai tomorrow. _Several_, in fact," she emphasized, teasing him.

"You mean a _Xiangqin_," Zuko frowned, not pleased in the slightest that she had reminded him. Personally, he found the traditional ritual stiff and ludicrous. He was completely capable of finding his own bride. He hated the whole process of meeting with the potential bride and her family while his advisers and her parents tried to unite the two in marriage. Already Zuko had been to his share of Xiangqins - thankfully, he never made it to the stage where both parties, completely intent on the union, took it upon themselves to set up a series of dates that would lead to an inevitable marriage ceremony.

Still, as Fire Lord he was politically and socially obligated to engage in the tradition until after Katara's coronation, and he hated every wasted second of it. "Your people may call it an Omiai, but the betrothal ceremony in the Fire Nation is called a _Xiangqin_, Katara," he grumbled with distaste, falling back on the sheets and pressing his hand against his forehead. "It's your _duty_ to know these things, adviser."

Katara, ignoring his correction, grinned wryly. "I'm not some stuffy old councilman," she laughed, "but I would be interested in arranging my own Omiai with our proud Fire Lord."

Zuko turned his head on the pillow, letting his arm slip back to his side as he took in her mischievous smile and gleaming eyes. She sat calmly, even as her chest still rose and fell laboriously in the heat, and he was glad to see that her feverish movements were lessening. Happy to see her happy, to see her and not some prim noblewoman by his side, he yawned again. Katara, laughing softly, ran her fingers along the line of his jaw and then brushed her fingertips against his lips.

His eyes flickered as she settled down at his side. "You can't. You're a peasant," Zuko murmured, teasingly condescending. "The Fire Lord is _far_ too good for y—" He was silenced as she reached back and then struck his face with a pillow twice. Laughter muffled beneath the heavy material, he rolled away from her assailing blows and shook on the disrupted sheets, shielding his eyes with one elevated arm. "You win. You _win_!"

With an offended huff of breath, Katara flopped down and turned away from him. "You're not so great yourself, Mr. I'm-the-all-powerful-Fire-Lord," she muttered, yanking with exaggeration at the sheets. "You know, to be honest, I don't know who _would _want to marry you. Why, just look at your display when you heard the guard gossiping about us. You're nothing short of stubborn, insensitive, short-tempered, self-absorbed—"

Smiling lovingly, he rolled over and snaked his arm around her waist. She jerked under his touch, but a shuddering sigh passed forth from her lips the moment his mouth brushed her lips. "_You _want to marry me, don't you, Katara?" he asked softly, his smile tickling soft skin.

"No," she said stubbornly. "I changed my mind. I much prefer—"

His brow knitted. Turning her onto her back, he instantly captured her lips, passionately displeased with where her sentence was headed. Pressing his body gently atop her sweating skin and rumpled gown, entangling his fingers within thick, damp hair, he kissed her until her laughter erupted from the back of her throat and she hid her face into the crook of his neck.

"Okay, _okay_," she gasped as he growled and nipped her neck impatiently. "I won't go anywhere. I'll stay right here." Smoothing a hand over his cheek and nudging his nose with her own, she smiled into his face with lidded eyes. "I'll stay right here."

"Just because I have Xiangqin to attend to does _not _mean—"

"I know." Her left hand found the small of his back, and comfortably she pulled his mouth back to hers. Breathing out contentedly, he slipped his mouth along hers, head tilting, hands clenching in strands of her. Her body arched beneath his, and then their lips broke apart as she laughed again. "I love you, too."

* * *

Although On Ping had informed his daughter that his being an adviser largely entailed work with policies pertaining to the Fire Nation's more practical matters, in practice this was not always the case. On Ping had come to find that 'adviser', in certain instances, entailed more than wisdom on foreign affairs, war and diplomacy. It also underlined submission to politics, both inside and outside the Fire Palace, which On Ping had learned unknowingly the first time he attended one of Fire Lord Zuko's Xiangqins. It was rare that he was called to do so, but when such times did arise, it was a jarring reminder that his Fire Lord was just at much at war with balancing the nations as he was with the fanning wives of his noblemen.

Now, On Ping would have to attend these for his only child, On Ji, soon enough. And so he tried to think of Zuko's dull ceremonies as practice. He wasn't wild about the idea of introducing his child into the world of courtiers and marriage ceremonies, but his compunctions as a father had no place in overcoming tradition. Stroking his beard impatiently, the adviser addressed the presence of his Fire Lord the moment he emerged into the inner palace's courtyard. Straightening his shoulders, On Ping dipped into a subservient bow.

"Fire Lord," said On Ping.

Normally, Fire Lord Zuko would acknowledge his men, too. Today, however, he rushed past the line of bowed men with not so much as a nod.

"Don't come!" the Fire Lord snarled, pushing a frazzled hand roughly through his coal-colored shag, adding in an irritated voice, "You'll only be in the way, Katara!"

Following behind him was a woman dressed as a member of the Water Tribes. On Ping recognized the name first, and then her face. And then her voice.

"You – _you_," she paused, as if no other word in her vocabulary could do him justice. "I don't even know _what _to call you!" she hissed, and placed her hands over her knees, leaning in, ready to leap upon the firebender at any moment.

On Ping couldn't ever recall seeing his Fire Lord so stubborn, passionate – so unguarded. Zuko raised his hands, and On Ping thought he might surrender from whatever difference of opinion they had obviously struck. He hoped, anyhow. Instead, as Zuko furrowed his brows and locked his feet, On Ping thought it looked like he was ready to take her on, bender to bender.

"How about Fire Lord?" Zuko cocked his head, still in combat position. "You're a foreign policy adviser, Katara, and not—"

Zuko nearly wished that he hadn't said that.

"What do you think I am, _Zuko? _If you've forgotten by now, I'm from the Southern Water Tribe."

Zuko interjected crassly. "How _could _I after last night? Those stupid blankets—"

On Ping raised his hand to the Fire Lord, ushering him to stop before he dug himself a deeper hole. They didn't need to give the palace anything else to talk about.

"That makes the Fire Nation _foreign_ to me. And I advise on policies to the Fire Lord. I'd say that your Omiai is a policy, and a _foreign policy _specifically – you're so keen that I learn up on Fire Nation culture, yet you refuse me," she spat.

"_Xiangqin_." The Fire Lord corrected.

"Oh, for the love of our nations, it's the _same_ thing!" she seethed, and On Ping cringed as the Fire Lord drew himself up stiffly. Tradition was of the utmost importance to the former prince - even if he didn't agree with everything, he followed the rules for love of his people. And he greatly respected the culture of his childhood, so On Ping was certain that the young man would not stand for the Water Tribe woman completely disregarding his customs, sweetheart or not. "So stop correcting everything I say, _Zuko_. Every time I say something, you've just got a better way to say it in the Fire Nation. Why am I not allowed to keep some of my heritage if you're allowed to flaunt your own?"

"Because you're _in_ the Fire Nation!" he roared. The grounds had now fallen silent, and all eyes had focused on them in surprise. On Ping took a step forward, but the Fire Lord rose his arm in fury, his chest heaving and his good eye narrowed on his ever-constant companion. "If you find it increasingly necessary to question the ways of my people, then I don't know why you bother to stay."

The pretty waterbender was silenced by the Fire Lord's scathing words, and wind brushed over the courtyard as On Ping cradled his face in his hands. She finally lifted her chin, but despite the steel in her eyes her shoulders were slumped and her lower lip was trembling. "Then maybe I _should_ leave," she remarked quietly to the storm in her friend's eyes, her hands clenching and relaxing by her hips. "Since you clearly don't appreciate what I have to offer," she whispered in growing strength. Her words struck the Fire Lord in the face, and he took a step back. "All I want to do is help."

"Well I don't want you there!" he fired back by way of apology. On Ping was simply glad that the argument had strayed from her talk of leaving. While he didn't know very much about his Lord's pseudo-fiancée, he only heard good things about her around the palace, scathing gossip aside. If she left, surely the Fire Lord would not be as competent as he was now, in both person and professional matters. "Can't you for _once _do as I ask?"

"Give me one good reason why I can't come!" she snapped. "I'm good at my job, despite what you tend to believe. I can move the process along smoothly! You always complain so much about the proceedings, so why can't I make it easier–"

"Because I don't want you to _see_me like that!" he roared in her face, and again she was quieted, momentarily silenced by shock. Running a hand over his face, the Fire Lord turned away from her, and On Ping got a regretful glance of the youth's charred face. Casting his eyes to the ground, he shuffled his feet. In the meantime, his Fire Lord continued with, "Dammit, Katara. Just don't _come_."

Katara blinked, aware that something in his voiced breached the traditions of the Fire Nation and those of her own, proud home. Silenced, the waterbender thoughtfully glanced at On Ping, a man she didn't know outside the confines of his work. He was also quiet, but subtly he nudged his chin toward Zuko, indicating, _advising_ to Katara that silence in this particular moment wasn't golden. Katara nodded in a slight manner, sorry for her harsh words against Zuko, who had only been thinking of her. He was always doing that; even when her jealousy, her nonsense jealousy, overcame her.

"Zuko," Katara said softly, breathing out. "Okay. I won't go today." Watching his back cautiously, she could see his shoulders lose tension. "I only wanted you to find a nice wife."

Zuko rashly wheeled around at this, scowling miserably at her, and startling the onlookers in the process. "That _isn't_ funny, Katara!"

Katara seemed to think the opposite, however, as she covered her lips in an attempt to stifle her growing laughter. On Ping found the humor contagious, and he also did his best to mask his amusement at the outburst.

"I won't go to your Xiangqin." Katara promised, her smile small and lovely. Zuko was frustrated still, but he found it increasingly difficult to be angry with her again. In resignation he nodded.

Behind Zuko, a voice offered, "Hey, we'll go with you!"

The voice, cheerful and bright, was instantly recognized.

Katara sighed heavily, a smile bubbling just beyond her lips as she was flooded with questions, memories, and growing elation. In the middle of the courtyard, watching Zuko turn cautiously and bow in a manner of respect, stood the very reason she was able to be there, shamelessly arguing with the lord of the entire Fire Nation. Grinning boundlessly, a man with twisting, blue arrows stood. There _Aang _stood, with her brother and Toph at his side. They looked just as she remembered.

Her eyes welled with tears, and hastily she hid them with a quick bow as Sokka yawned and scratched at the back of his head. "So. _Sparky_. Got any meat anywhere in this place?" The request was echoed by the messy earthbender.

Aang cleared his throat uncomfortably as Katara lifted her head with a glower and Zuko rose to his full height, shifting at the disapproving grumbles of his guard. Sokka shrugged, oblivious to the discontent.

"How about a grand tour!" Aang chimed in hastily, patting Sokka on the back with one hand, his staff resting against his shoulder as he rubbed his shining dome. "It's been quite a while."

"Too long." Toph grinned, stretching her powerful legs out lazily.

Zuko grunted in admission, dismissing his guard and advisers with a wave of his hand. On Ping followed obediently, watching the young waterbender run to embrace a boy of similar clothing with loosened hair and the subtle growth of stubble on his chin. Then she bent to grasp the person who _must_ have been a girl, only by virtue of closeness to the other Water Tribesman. She pulled away and stood before the Avatar with mild awkwardness as he shuffled his feet and cast his eyes to the ground, but the tension was alleviated when she launched herself at him, blubbering with happiness and mild reprimands. Smiling, On Ping followed the rest of the men out, noting how his Fire Lord approached the group with caution, his eyes glued to the back of his pretty adviser.

"I still want meat," was the last thing he heard grumbled. He assumed it was the Water Tribe warrior, since a sharp reprimand from the waterbender and an unfamiliar, offended yelp broke the silence in the open courtyard as he walked away.

* * *

As promised, Toph, Aang and Sokka were given a tour of the palace (which had, Zuko lectured stiffly, undergone some construction since their last visit) and given meat, respectively. But, jus as Aang had casually suggested earlier, there the trio, and Zuko, was – enduring a stuffy silence at Zuko's third Xiangqin of the day, and thus far all were utter failures. Mostly, the family members of Zuko's Xiangqin partners were too preoccupied with being in the presence of both the Fire Lord and the Avatar to concentrate. These certainly were less-than-ideal conditions for love (not to mention marriage) to bloom. Zuko repeatedly thanked Aang and Sokka – even Toph, despite her crass remarks – for their presences, which none of the officiators were too pleased about. The two earlier prospects, a sixteen- and then eighteen-year-old, were both too much for Zuko's patience, and only with the aid of his advisors did he emerge politely.

The third Xiangqin, a seventeen-year-old beauty and daughter of a loyal noblmen, also yielded a bad match. "I just _adore_ the color of your eyes, Sokka!" she grinned foolishly, twisting a ringlet of smoky locks around her finger.

As he did so, her father remarked to Aang, "What is it like to be _the _Avatar?"

Aang shrugged bashfully. His job description was like a puzzle, complicated and scattered – many things all at once, and sometimes nothing at all. He didn't particularly like to explain it. Words didn't begin to express the complexity and energy that went into being the world's savior. Besides, he didn't really like to crow about his accomplishments. More often he liked to smile, to take in his peoples' smiles and to just be satisfied knowing that they were happy.

Because he was far too humble to voice any of this, Sokka brusquely interjected. "_Pretty _cool," Avatar Sokka stroked his chin thoughtfully, contemplating. "You know, _crazy_ bending and lady wooing. It's a tough life, but someone's gotta do it."

Before he could elaborate on his experiences as being _the_ Avatar, the swordsman was promptly punched in the arm. As he muttered an offended "oof" and rubbed his jaw, glowering at his assailant, Toph Bei Fong grinned like a small and menacing devil. Sokka muttered an unintelligible curse against her children's children as he continued to tenderly massage his elbow, a soft, pink welt quickly forming over his skin. Zuko, in silence, frowned at the display of the three, as did the eight advisers and councilmen that had joined the group for the Xiangqin.

He was representing the Fire Nation. He could not very well expect to exhibit the calmer, more dignified ideals of his people when a veritable peasant and girl covered in earth went gallivanting about in his palace and the leader of the worlds declined comment to any questions he was asked. It wasn't political, and it wasn't respectable. Honestly, the company that had, at first, relieved the young rule was slowly turning into yet another headache. Zuko rubbed both temples.

Clearing her throat, the mother of Zuko's third Xiangqin match remarked in concern, "Oh, _dear_. Is that a girl?" She closed her fan promptly, eyeing Toph in suspicion. A shock of hurt ripped through her face, rippling in the murky wells of her eyes. It was a quick, quiet flicker, unnoticeable by anyone who didn't know her, didn't know the subtle ways of her emotion. Toph righted herself. She held her head up, chin proud, fists clenched, a grin on her face.

"My dear friend, Toph." Aang patted her shoulder, a soft smile on his face. Zuko arched an eyebrow at the way Toph rolled her sightless eyes and wrestled away from his grip, shaking tousled hair into her face and bearing a strict grimace.

"_Bei Fong_," Toph warned, her nose titled into the air, assuring the woman that _Toph Bei Fong_ was an important and prestigious name. Zuko crossed his arms as she worriedly glanced his way, showing full well that it was.

"Of the _flying boards_," crooned Sokka, in a strange, indefinable accent. He twisted his invisible mustache regally. They all looked at him with baffled expressions, and he hesitated, his grin slipping as he pointed to Toph. "You know! The crest…_thing_."

"_Boars_," Toph drawled, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. Aang snickered as Sokka rubbed the back of his head, shooting her a sheepish look and mumbling to himself. Zuko felt somewhat relieved at the humor, and he was grateful for the composure that Toph was capable of upholding. It helped – a little.

Despite the disapproval and leers of his staff, Zuko began to unwind just a little. It wasn't practical, but at least he began to enjoy himself, even as he kept his shoulders squared and voice formal. Simply, he hadn't realized how much he had missed his friends and their company. Quietly, he allowed himself an amused chuckle, hiding his smile behind his hand as Toph laughed and gently punched Sokka in the arm. Yes, he had missed the loud, ever sarcastic Sokka, Toph and her blunt comments, and the Avatar – Zuko had certainly missed Aang the most. The young airbender was the very reason for his current position, not to mention happiness.

Katara's face flashed into his mind, and he briefly wondered what she was doing just then. He wondered if she could _possibly _be having more fun than he was, enduring stifling requirements and sitting through mind-numbing pleasantries and courtesies. But it was for the good of his people, and he had to remind himself. He would put up with these meetings for them, so that he could become a leader whom they could willingly follow.

"That's what I said," said Sokka who, making a face at her, stubbornly crossed his arms.

As indicated by the stupor of the mother, the Xiangqin appeared to be over.

* * *

"I'll say one thing, Xi Kang. I am happy to _not_ be the Fire Lord."

On Ping toyed a small charm closely, captivated by the foreign palette of greens, browns, and golds – a calming pattern of earthly tones that touched his fingers.

On Ji was likewise enamored by the relatively new culture of the Earth Kingdom, collecting small momentums that reflected the ancient people. Most people in the Fire Nation, even the few conservatives that openly expressed their opposition to change, were interested and allured by the new culture. It was practically another world. With the global tension easing slowly yet steadily every year, more Earth Kingdom resources were being imported – and trade barriers weakened – into the Fire Nation. And more people from the firm Earth Kingdom were immigrating into the Fire Nation. It was, of course, the influence of the Colonies, where intermarriage was not uncommon. It was planting itself into the firebending homeland as colonials returned to the mainland, and as more and more open-minded foreigners landed on Fire Nation soil. The country rung with change.

"And why is that?" Xi Kang turned away from On Ping, examining a green robe. She felt the cool silk beneath her fingers. Her almond eyes narrowed to slits as she eyed the garment, and carefully she lifted it from her scrutiny to tilt it into the receding sunlight.

"Today we advised him through _four_ Xiangqin partners, and meanwhile the poor man is already engaged! Or something along those lines, you know. _Insufferable _matches, too," he said. On Ping gave a look of distaste, joining Xi Kang's to admire the material. He touched it lightly, inspecting the cool, smooth fabrics. He wondered at the lovely colors.

"Not all young women can be both beautiful and charming, Papa. Very unfortunate indeed," Xi Kang paused, lifting the cloth to give On Ping a better look. He nodded his approval. "I like this one. It's very unusual," she said.

The tunic, traditionally cut, shimmered in the light as she angled it off her fingertips. Long-beaked birds danced along the fabric, free and precocious. They appeared animated as she moved the garb under the light. Small beads dotted the edges, and patches of gold leaves checked the sleeves and hem. The rest of it was dyed in assorted shades of green, some dark like Fire Pines and others lighter like the husk ofthe Dong fruit from Omashu.

"It will look lovely on you, Xi," On Ping gave a satisfied sigh, admiring Xi Kang's face. She was soft and gorgeous – a world wonder, On Ping thought. He moved closer to his wife.

"Oh, it's not for me, dear – for On Ji," Xi Kang corrected, folding the robe over her long arms.

On Ping shifted uncomfortably, resigned to asking, "But…why? You know our On Ji looks so refined in her home-nation colors." That wasn't really what he was getting at. On Ji would look lovely in any color, to be sure, but the father did not feel comforted by the womanly cut of the gown. Surely it was much too much for his daughter, his young and only daughter. He said as much.

"She has to grow up, dear. On Ji will make a wonderful match for _someone_," Xi Kang said, breezily. To his wife it was very simply a beautiful piece of clothing. To be worn by a daughter that was, as expected, growing daily. It was an inevitable purchase for the inevitable. On Ji was becoming an adult, no two ways about it. To On Ping, it was yet another reminder of things, and changes, to come.

"And she looks wonderful in any color, of course," Xi Kang added.

With a frown, the adviser nodded. "Yes, I'm quite aware…"

"It's fine, Ping. We both know that she's ready. She _will_ be," Xi Kang relaxed her hand to his cheek, pressing her lips softly on his chin. "Now please buy this for your daughter, and don't be so gloomy. It could very well be another year before On Ji finds her match. It's an investment."

On Ping would be sorry to see On Ji's uniform go. It was designed for both genders, and as many young women of the Academy lamented, difficult to make it appear otherwise. That was the part he'd liked. He sighed, but could not believe his wife. On Ji was neither witless nor unlovely. Intelligence, beauty _and_ rank were rare finds among the host of flouncing, self-exalting woman of the Fire Nation, but his On Ji possessed both attributes. She was docile and agreeable, unafraid to be frank, and always sympathetic and amiable. She was so similar to Xi Kang, yet not unlike her father. She retained the better aspects of both, with a few quirks of her own. Several fathers had already casually approached On Ping about his intentions for On Ji's forthcoming season.

"Of course," said On Ping. "It's a beautiful find, love." As Xi Kang requested, the adviser laid the proper sum into the hands of the woman collecting payment.

She was lovely, obviously Earth Kingdom. And if her sharp green eyes and toned muscles said anything, she was also earthbender. She pushed her braid over one shoulder and accepted On Ping's currency.

On Ping started, but quickly found himself. He frowned. While she _was_ handsome, scars marred her otherwise unblemished flesh. Burns. Her skin was tarnished into the crooks and folds of her thick palms, crawling in a swarm across the whole of her hand to bunch over her wrists in puddles of wrinkled skin. He could not pull his eyes from the burns, and a lump weighed in the middle of his throat. Her hands were a sorry chronicle of the War — a war that would be forever written in her knobby palms, a constant reminder of the injustices done to an earthbender protecting her land.

"Thank you for your purchase," she said. Her voice was soft, sweet, as if she did not just cater to an enemy. It was more than he deserved, the mild manner of a scarred young woman. She made a small dip, a messy bow, before slipping back into the crowded shop. On Ping lost sight of her then, lost sight of her hands and wrists and slight smile. But he continued to look.

He blinked as his wife gave him a careful shake, and softly he turned his head.

"Don't worry, Ping, dear," Xi Kang said, gentle murmur. Forgiving, even.

On Ping nodded as way of response, but said nothing. Said nothing of a legacy he'd been part of, of a Fire Lord he had advised. All he said, he said as he worked under the newest Fire Lord. All he said, he said as he did his best to work towards global restoration. It was all he was able to say, when burns and faces and death came knocking.

"So, other than those _horrid _matches, how is our Fire Lord?" Xi Kang said suddenly, aware of and accustomed to On Ping's sorrows. She latched onto his arm, pulling him down the string of bustling Earth Kingdom-owned shops.

"Oh, yes," On Ping said, releasing Xi Kang's hand. "I forgot to say that the Avatar is back in the Fire Nation, didn't I, Xi?"

* * *

"A social gathering?" Katara lifted her gaze from the cloth with piquing interest.

Resting over her folded legs were a pair of Sokka's sage trousers, tattered and torn from top to bottom. The waterbender tugged the stilt needle nimbly through and under the material, mending the damage the wearer had done. Katara didn't want to know what her brother had done to create such an unkempt mess. Zuko, who had nodded from behind her, sprawled across the bed sheets, eagle-like, and shifted his eyes toward Katara.

"_In honor of the Avatar_," Zuko remarked wryly. "But it's really just another public way to convince the courtiers that I _am_ searching for a wife. Aang provided the perfect cover, that's all."

Katara nodded, preoccupied with her sewing again. "Can I go, Almighty Fire Lord?"

"You do know you could have sent that to a seamstress in the palace, Katara." Zuko, ever the politician, skillfully evaded the question. "Or bought him new pants."

The bender nodded again. "But I feel needed like this, and besides. Women from the Water Tribe are never too good for sewing. Now, about that formal gathering…" She looked up at him, meeting his eye. The benders held gazes sternly. She already knew the answer, and there was no way he would dare deny her a second time.

"You can go."

She grinned, satisfied with both his response and her sewing. "Perfect." Zuko observed the piece, picking it up. A smirk replaced his concerned and grim expression.

Her eyebrows rose. "Is it not to your taste?" Her eyes dared him to ridicule her hard work. He just shook his head, knowing when to pick his battles. This was not a fight easily fought, since Katara was stubborn about embracing the luxuries that the Fire Lord could offer her. No matter how many times he offered, she was resort back to her old ways.

He eyed the worn pants in his hands. He would have someone pick up Sokka a new pair tomorrow.

"I'm not the one wearing them," he replied, placing them beside her. Before she could argue or retort, he walked over and leaned down, pulling her into a kiss. Even after a long day spent hearing women praise him, nothing compared to a single kiss with Katara and her heat and passion matching up to his. She bit his lip, looking deep into his yellow eyes. She was the only person he knew, who, with a single glance, could send shivers up and down his spine. He loved her, and if the choice was his he would marry her right there and then.

Katara grinned through the kiss, masking a laugh in her throat, and she came to know one thing indefinitely – she didn't know anything anymore.

* * *

© Disclaimer:

We own nothing from Avatarverse: All characters,  
places, and quotes remain the intellectual and  
creative property of whoever they belong to, which,  
if you did not catch, is not us.

_Re-written 2/23/12._

Huzzah! _Chapter two_ and out so quickly, via the hard work or Sumioney. Yes, that's right, _Sumioney_. Suki and I finally got the 'Mio' of our trio (rhyme unintentional, I swear) to join us for this chapter. Because Mio and Suki are busy, and I wanted to get this out tonight (Courtney speaking), I'll just have them add their commentaries at a later time. So, this is brought to you by the amazingness of Sumioney. These two chapters aren't going anywhere fast, _I know_, but you'll have to stick around as things accelerate. This came out quickly because of our enthusiasm for the project, so hopefully the next chapter will be out quickly as well! This chapter is heavily Zutara, so it will be less concentrated on next chapter, which will be more Aanji again, and a bit of this and a bit of that. You'll probably just have to see... Anyhow. Thank you for reading with us thus far, we really appreciate the feedback to our work. Also, feel free to read and review, because that makes us happy.

- Sumioney


	4. Initiation

_Primary Days  
_written by Sumioney

Chapter 3: Initiation

The moon was high. It was a smooth, glowing dazzle rounded perfectly into the ebony sky, a diamond portrait of calm and silence. The sun of nightfall. The midnight wonder.

Everyone and everything looked stunning tonight, exquisitely celebrated and formal to the eye. She'd been wrought with anxiety to attend to party, expecting grand fun and memorable laughs with her fellow Fire Nation. She'd dreamed that it would be a frivolous and gay celebration, where colors exploded and people of every Nation danced together, weaving in and out of sloppy folk dances, lost in the laughter and embracing. Forgetting, if for only a moment, that they were different people, of different Nations and customs. Events all too new to her home nation, happiness, freedom, a chance to be perfectly and remarkably human, to appreciate the common-ground no longer a secret. However, her vision played out not so perfectly.

It _was_ frivolous, but in a social kind of way. Maybe she was too accustomed to the indoctrination of Fire Lord Ozai? Too conformed to the old ways? No, she wasn't quite so eager to see the dawn of the past; things were newer, better, brighter and reasonable. The only problem was her. It wasn't the people, wasn't the surroundings. It was her lost enthusiasm, sharp and untamed like a wild blade.

Truthfully, she had never seen such an amazing place in her life. It was so bright and alive, moving and yet inanimate. On the farthest wall, rows of floor-to-ceiling picture windows were draped with deep, ash-colored silk, sweeping along the shining floors, flickering against the swaying winds. Towards the back, an estimated two hundred tables rested, illuminated by small cinnamon candles that were spotted with small and gleaming fire jewels. The rest of the hall was fit with its themed Earth Kingdom decor, every expression and every color vibrantly alive.

And the people: they were more breathtaking than they had every been before. They weren't the familiar people she had seen, those worn and weary from the war, seeking warmth wherever it would find them - if anywhere at all. Not one eyelid was bruised with insomnia, nor one mouth not grinning foolishly. Happiness flowed with energy into everyone, touching every soul with viscous headiness. For her, however, the gallery had proven only how out-of-touch she was with her own generation. It revealed only disappointment in herself; she'd found that she was more lost than she'd expected.

Luckily, her mood touched no one else. It bubbled around her like a shield, protecting only her. _What's wrong?_ she thought, but she wasn't quite sure. Something was wrong; something her sharp wit couldn't locate.

The people of all nations swirled and stepped around, dipping and gliding like the figurines in her worn music box. Tool and lace, silk and robes of all color, swam in the air. The attendees flew as they were led along the music, drunk with both alcohol and relief. It was all over, the oppression. The soberness. The need to be on perfect behavior. The masks had all been dropped.

The evening was lovely though, she had to admit. The ball was something like a refined carnival, a present to the people who dearly needed it. And she was no exception. She was naturally humble, but beneath the lights and romance—so thick in the air it was nearly tangible, intoxicating—she looked like one of them. Any of them. On Ji looked wonderful, but her beauty was subdued by the straight line across her painted lips. She knew it well. She was complacent, merely there; she was an object for show, not to be touched. A relic. An antique. Inanimate and dusty.

"On Ji."

On Ji blinked, her brown eyes curious, searching for her caller.

"Oh. Dad." Her voice livened, woken by her answer. However much she tried to disguise it, On Ping's ears picked up On Ji's relieved tone. She almost sounded desperate, and that worried On Ping.

Frowning, he traced his wiry beard with concern. "Enjoying yourself, dear?" Not that he wasn't aware of her answer.

On Ji paused. She hated to lie, especially to her father, the person she trusted most next to her mother. She'd never grow accustomed to fabricating new stories to justify old ones. Instead, the seventeen-year-old shifted her weight to another leg, watching the sky again, and traced the stars with her fingers. He would have known if she had lied, so lying only to be discovered was also out of the question. Lying unsettled her, so any excuse, no matter how unconvincing, would work. On Ji heard On Ping sigh into the frigid night, stepping softly to her side. His white breath swirled and swiveled through the air like smoke - a dragon's steaming fire.

"You're like me after all." A loud, chalky laugh filled the atmosphere, surprising his daughter.

"Dad?" On Ji barely whispered, her forehead wrinkling.

Gently, On Ping moved his fingers to fix a stray of On Ji's chocolate hair, which defiantly swirled from her cross-braided bun. "Nothing, On Ji. I'm only a messenger."

On Ji became fixated on her father, decoding his subtle expression. It was too diverse to pinpoint. It was confused and sad, lonely but proud, and a little bit agitated. She shifted to her other leg, feeling the pull of the uncomfortably tight obi shaping her frame in gold. She appraised him again, searching for any indication his gestures betrayed. Separately she understood the emotions, but together, so comfortable with one another on On Ping's sagacious face, On Ji had no hope of knowing their intertwined meaning. Again, nothing. He was making very little sense.

On Ji, a little miffed, turned away, glancing at the stars again, while watching her father too. Finally, the long moments of silence ended. On Ji breathed a sigh of relief, the tension tingling.

"Your mother wanted me to tell you something." On Ping drew another unsatisfied breath, fixated on the hovering moon. "There's someone she wants you to meet, On Ji dear."

"Who?"

On Ping beat against his chest with, forcing out a congested cough, discomfort shivering through him. He let the word slip awkwardly through his tight lips. "Someone _special_." That was the best he could summarize it, and he felt uncharacteristically foolish.

"_Special_?" On Ji wheeled toward him again. "Like _stop-eating-the-dirt_ special?" she feverishly questioned.

On Ping could not correct his pulsing laughter as it roared into the night, shaking through him uncontrolled. On Ji's wide eyes elated him, her face alight with horror and confusion. Obviously, the thought of what this "special meeting"_ actually_ was hadn't yet occurred to her. An impromptu Xiangqin. That fact comforted the father for a moment, that his daughter was not was quick to be married off as most Fire Nation bachelorettes. She was blissfully unaware of the pressures that awaited her life from now on, the empty rituals and customs.

"No, dear," On Ping squared his shoulders, the last of his guffaws dying. "_Xiangqin_ special." The word, On Ping found, was a little easier to say now.

* * *

"Aunt Juri," On Ji beamed amiably, only grasping her hand quickly but still making the gesture polite.

One Xi Kang's closest and busiest companion fanned herself after her attempt at an Earth folk dance. On Ji's exchange with her father had been cut short by her expected return to the party, and thus she'd come across Juri, the first dancer in sight. The woman's chopped, ashen hair flew wildly against her face, and her robe was in a bit of a fray, but she looked happy, grinning like a child. On Ji, readied for whatever Xi Kang's plans would bring, had joined a small but growing group of Xi Kang's friends, their daughters included.

"Oh, please, On Ji dear. You know being addressed as _aunt_ makes me feel so ancient!" Juri crowed, lacing her fingers into Xi Kang's stiffly. "_Juri_, as always. Now, you simply _must_ tell me. Your father brags about your impeccable academic achievements relentlessly. Do you plan to pursue your talents beyond the Fire Academy?" Juri fluttered her fan, sweeping moist air towards her face. Auburn tendrils rebelled against her neck, coiling into her perspiration.

"_Who ever heard of such a thing_?" Scandal tore across the undefined circle, in the form of Haong Chi, the wife of a Major. Her painted face melted over her chin, sweat threatening to sweep away the blanch powder, should it come any closer. Haong was a wide yet remarkably beautiful woman, though On Ji suspected her feet were rather small by the way she stood unevenly, oddly disproportionate.

Xi Kang clicked her tongue as the other wives and a small collection of daughters echoed the sentiment with whispered disapproval.

"My On Ji may do whatever she pleases, ladies. I'll kindly remind you of her position. My husband, On Ping, is a senior adviser to the Fire Lord _himself_, and a trusted friend, I boldy add." The others nodded in agreement. "Compensation towards her furthered education is certainly not an issue of concern. If On Ji chooses to attend the local college, she'll be given no less," Xi Kang added with ice. The wives fervently nodded once more.

On Ji sighed, amusement catching her lips. The power her mother had over the masses was astonishing - even a little disturbing.

"And no Xinagqin?" Juri added incredulously.

"Oh, don't be absurd. My On Ji will find a wonderful match, even while studying..." Xi Kang paused for a moment, wheeling to regard her silent daughter. "What _is_ it you plan to study, dear?"

On Ji shrugged thoughtfully. She'd never given much thought to her education, nor had she taken the time to map a specialty. "Airbender studies?" It was a more of a question, the first she could think of. Were "Airbender studies" even legitimate? Unlikely. Still, the others in the circle stupidly nodded approval, as though they knew what she was talking about—"Excellent. A fine study," they all concurred. Leave it to them, so enraptured by Xi Kang's influence that they would approve of a bogus major. At heart, they were all fairly nice but very misguided. The shame was really her role mother, Xi Kang, the exploiter and puppeteer. Such sad, poor puppets her audiences all were.

"_Very_ prestigious," Juri cooed.

"At which university, dear?" another voice verbalized, but On Ji couldn't pinpoint which.

It took a moment of reflection, though On Ji chose the first that came to her mind. "Kahn University?" If her words kept betraying themselves as questions, though, even her mother's power wouldn't rescue the ruse. "Or... Ah Jihn? I haven't thought _too_ much about it." She paused. What answer would please Xi Kang? Make her smile with otherworldly beauty? "... though I still have my Xinagqin to worry about, you know." On Ji's voice, even-tempered, assured the attentive crowd. That truth was the closest to a lie that she could fathom without feeling guilt weigh down heavily on her chest or feel the need to explain herself. Suddenly, after the brief conversation she'd had with her father, her Xiangqin was glaring at her, bold, aggressive, and extremely important.

It was already there, wasn't it? Love, which _was not _optional, marriage, children—On Ji choked on her saliva at the thought, sloshing it back down—and life. She could have the education she'd never really thought about, and maybe she would petition her personal creation of Airbender studies at whichever college she chose. On Ji would have liked to think that her impending betrothal was far off, a worry for tomorrow. She'd expected that worry in the sense of another day - certainly not the _next_ day. It was just...so close. _Too_ close. Too much to bear all at once.

The conversation pulsed on, now drawn to a more willing star, Aoki, who might have been Juri's niece. She was the niece of somebody in the messy circle, at least, which grew with each story. On Ji's mother stood proudly at the center, power-mad, though in a peaceful, non-Ozai sort of way way. Strong, but not intolerable. The best kind.

_Ah_. Turned out that Aoki was was the niece of Juri's niece. Her ears caught that much as her eyes roamed the green-draped walls of the palace, looking for some sight to satisfy her boredom. And then it came. The smidgen of attention On Ji had earnestly devoted to their prattling was gone, vanished in a single moment by a flash of something familiar. With great restraint, she inhaled a breath, realizing only as her lungs pounded uncomfortably through chest that she'd forgotten to keep breathing. _Beat. Beat. Beat_.

On Ji bit her lower lip, feeling a smile grow between her teeth. There he walked, too lost in his happy cloud to notice her attentive, almost possessive gaze. He was gangly like a spider - tall and lean, with limbs long and proportioned. A little less awkward, but still him. _Always_ him. Just as she remembered.

Gently, On Ji pushed away from the gabbing crowd - no one seemed disappointed - and pulled at her sleeves impatiently. It was in her suddenly, a spark that brought her back to life in such a monotonous evening. Thankfully, he didn't attract any company. He only waved and fanned around, looking like a fool but making On Ji smile. He was more approachable this way. More real.

She held both hands tightly against her chest, feeling her heart beat beneath the skin.

It was just too easy now, seeing the light fur of an animal gliding across the festival of sorts. The same monkey, or whatever species it was, chittered over the crowds with the Avatar - Kuzon's pet. It perturbed On Ji only slightly to catch the looks of disapproval aimed at her. She shot through the dancers, even ran between the arms of one couple accidentally, still eyeing the flying object with determination. Though he'd been so clear, so in-focus, Kuzon was now hidden in the cloud of people dressed in Earth Kingdom garb. He, too, wore the festive robes for the evening, though On Ji hardly paid attention to them. She watched his furry companion, hoping it would lead her home.

On Ji failed to see the new wave of dancers passing her front, and the distraction cost her too much. When her brown eyes scrutinized the ceiling again, the monkey—a fair amount of her hope—had vanished. The Avatar, her Kuzon, had fallen into the crowd and out of sight.

* * *

After the hour passed, Xi Kang apologized solemnly to her company. She'd lost her On Ji to the crowd, and she as well had business to conduct with a more private party. Though not particularly moved by her subtle hints, the crowd eventually let her presence alone.

Which now found her strolling elegantly up to two regal figures, bowed in low-toned conversation and attempting to appear discreet.

"Fire Lord!" Xi Kang greeted warmly, politely lending her hand into his.

Fire Lord Zuko, startled out of his sentence, glanced up and away from the beautiful Waterbender at his side. Blinking only a moment, he nodded with respect and stepped away from the woman, grasping Xi Kang's hand and letting his lips press lightly against her skin.

"Xi Kang," he regarded with a nod, straightening from his slight bow. "Beautiful as ever." No emotion found its way into his voice.

Zuko watched her neutrally, rather unsettled by the almond gaze that called his every gesture into question. He far preferred On Ping, a more understanding and reserved person who understood the necessity of boundaries. Unfortunately, Zuko had had no legitimate reason to keep the woman away, so he fought to manufacture proximity between the two that didn't put strain on his phobia of social situations.

At his side, Katara grinned politely, which caused Xi Kang to knowingly catch her eye and Zuko to frown slightly. "And...your daughter and sister. They're well?"

"Of course, Fire Lord." She breathed in the scent of pine, fresh and invigorating, unlike the stench of smoke and oil that had greeted her when Ozai was in power. Soot and fire. Xi Kang appreciated his frozen fiancée for a moment, her painted lips in a crooked half-smile. "We honor you with our love." Xi Kang could hardly mask the giggle bubbling across her lips. "And _loyalty_."

Of course she knew. Zuko contained his grimace, if slightly, by the stiffening of his jaw. On Ping knew, and with a wife like Xi Kang secrets clearly couldn't remain secrets for long. That wasn't to say that he distrusted On Ping's family. For all his preferences to distance himself from their scrutiny and questions, he did believe that they were loyal enough. The stress of third-party knowledge of his more private affairs, however, was not so welcome as the family's confessed "loyalty" was.

Tilting his head to the side to stir the bangs from his eyes, he then peered at the woman before him. Gods above forbid that he find something of her in Katara in the future. Already the Waterbender was as coy, extroverted, and perhaps as seductive as Lady Xi Kang could be. It would be too much to have his wife sleeping with his power, commanding the nation that Zuko had been entrusted with - that he had been born to lead, despite the underhanded deeds of his sister and father, despite his remaining uncertainties. Possibly he was over-thinking these fears, though. It couldn't be as bad as his imagination was trying to make it.

Still, he'd noticed an odd and unsettling comparison between his family and Xi Kang's. In the present, Katara was walking the same footsteps his mother, Ursa, had; and Mai had met the same fate as Xi Kang. Father like son didn't seem very appropriate, but the idea was still the same.

He wasn't told much - nor did he exactly want to know, since he had to deal with the woman in social situations such as the one right now - but Zuko was aware that Xi Kang had been romanced by the previous Fire Lord, his father. She had always been held in high regard among the Fire Nation elite. Apparently, the woman could have massacred a fleet of Fire navy ships and be pardoned from the crime. His mother had murmured to him once that Ozai and Xi Kang's romance had been before Ozai's reign of drunken power. Before Ursa had even been noticed. Before Ursa had even been loved, used, and then exiled. Yet Xi Kang was _always_ to be honored. Ozai had kept his watchful eye over her and her family throughout the years, throughout even his tyrannical conquest of the world.

Zuko was expected by the public to uphold that same respect.

The family of On Ping, Xi Kang, and On Ji were regarded with a special interest, which pleased Xi Kang. The token prize Ozai offered her. The _thank you for doing your best, but you didn't_ _win_ prize. On Ping's position in the Fire Nation and his success - though helped along by his noble birth; Xi Kang's standing in society; On Ji's freedom and educational well-being: they were little things, but they were Ozai's apology. His compensation. The best that he could manage, because Xi Kang was the recipient of poor fate. Jilted, in favor of her best friend, Ursa. Left with only two sentences to mourn the loss of the love she'd lavished in:

_Please forgive me, Xi Kang. And Ursa, too.  
- Ozai_.

Sure enough, she did forgive them both in time, and now she was happy with On Ping. Maybe even more than she could have been with his father.

Zuko didn't pity Xi Kang. He didn't regard her with familiarity because of their intertwined destinies. Instead, he watched her with the same empty regard which which he viewed his other courtesans. Maybe his stare was even a few degrees colder, because he just couldn't understand Xi Kang's love for his father - for a monster. And he couldn't help but feel that his mother had been served the greater injustice. In his early days, there had apparently been something in Ozai's heart - warmth, love, affection. But where was that for Ursa, in the end? For his mother, who had been given everything in the beginning and had ended with nothing.

How things change.

"Which reminds me, my lord." Xi Kang drew him back to the present, waving her hand in a general direction, though obviously the gesture was meant for Katara. "Is the...Avatar in...attendance by any chance? It's rather embarrassing to admit this - my On Ji will never forgive me - but she has taken the most adorable liking to him."

Xi Kang didn't know if this was true, but On Ji had never exhibited any sort of dislike or animosity to the boy, and she was a very agreeable and lovely girl - intelligent, too, a thought which made Xi Kang fan herself proudly. But like...love - what did they matter? The seed had been planted. Xi Kang's sister could talk her into anything, and now, the more Xi Kang thought about this pair, the more handsome the Avatar became and the more _right_ he looked next to On Ji. So it was worth an honest try.

"She's been dying to meet the hero of our proud Nation - not to say that _you_, Fire Lord Zuko, are not." He arched an eyebrow, wondering what she was getting on about in the course of her thoughts and long-winded speech. "She's met and respects you in a very healthy matter, nothing more," Xi Kang supplied in hasty addition, eyeing his Waterbending betrothed wistfully. "But you see, she's very eager to meet the Avatar. She has a deep respect _and more_ for the Airbender."

It took Zuko a moment longer than it should have to register, perhaps because he was so dazed by Xi Kang's performance that he got lost up in her word. When he finally managed to understand, a mortified blush crept its way over his cheeks, and blood swept out to warm his neck and ears. He could feel his youth taking command of the current situation as the stoic, Fire-Lord side left him for only a moment. How did these subjects manage to fall to _him_? These weren't the affairs he was supposed to cover in the comfort of his palace. He hadn't been educated in the finer details of setting up marriage in his palace lessons, nor had he learned them trekking across the globe, the aforementioned Avatar by his side. So what did he care about effective matchmaking? Especially concerning his _friend_.

He hardly knew what he was doing when it came to _Katara_, by the gods. She was the biggest mystery he would ever dare commit himself to tackling. Pursuing the romantic interests of acquaintances and friends weren't among his personal interests or concerns. Let them figure it out for themselves, as he'd had to do - and had done with a great amount of struggle and effort.

He was at the risk of answering coarsely, and he shot his eyes past her in desperation. "Yes, um..." His brow furrowed as he fumbled to remain diplomatic. What point was there in praising the qualities of a boy who had selflessly sacrificed his life for four nations years back? What more was there to say? "It's certainly true that the Avatar is...available..." He tilted his head, closing his eyes in a pained gesture. He didn't know how a fully-realized Avatar could ever be available, with the fate of the world on his shoulders. He didn't even know why he was still talking. "And I'm sure he'd be a fine match for your daughter..."

He trailed off lamely, improperly scratching at a temple in the midst of his awkwardness. Before he could take a leveling breath, though, Xi Kang's musical laugh trilled into the air, breaking him from his thoughts. From her standing point feet away, Katara appraised him cautiously as he blinked with confusion. He felt lost and young beneath the weight of Xi Kang's motherly stare, and only the Waterbender's blue eyes made him shake himself, square his shoulders, and shed whatever notions he'd been thinking from his mind. He was the Fire Lord. He was not a motherless boy any longer.

"I'm _not_ requesting your pastoral services, Fire Lord Zuko." Her giggle tumbled from her lips again, and Zuko had to tense his shoulders against his unfounded envy. This woman was not like a mother to him, even if she had been close to sharing the throne with his father. "I couldn't dare ask such a thing of you...I only wish she weren't denied the honor of meeting the object of her affections. Oh, she's a sensible girl, you know," and he supposed he did, but he'd only met her on a few rare occasions. "She wouldn't dream of such things."

Zuko wasn't sure why Xi Kang was so positive that nothing could materialize from On Ji's affections, and he didn't exactly want to know. Status wasn't the reason - concerning all the noble families of the Fire Nation, On Ping and Xi Kang were among the most affluent. And it didn't come down to On Ji's appearance - she was still young, but she wasn't plain. Xi Kang was probably acting polite, afraid to risk frightening the poor Airbender. She was far too much of a political mastermind for his comfort.

Zuko ran his moist palm over the top of his head, his fingertips brushing at the base of his ponytail as he attempting to catch Katara's eye. In the midst of conversing with another woman, she looked over her shoulder and arched an eyebrow to see Zuko's expression turn hopeful.

_'Katara_,_'_ he mouthed, waving his hand and beckoning her over. She hesitated, her expression flat, and then with a beaming smile she turned back to her temporary companion and bowed her head, excusing herself.

When she was within close proximity to him and Xi Kang, Zuko lightly introduced the two. Katara smiled, intimidated and stiff, and she blinked when Xi Kang almost purposefully flashed the girl a show of her own betrothal and marriage pendants. The red and orange jewels hung limply above Xi Kang's chest, glinting when she moved in the slightest, and Katara tried to avoid the glare. The Waterbender's smile grew wan, and she shot Zuko a meaningful look as he bowed his head, attempting to speak to her more privately despite the presence of his guest.

"Is Aang around here?" he murmured hesitantly through his teeth, flicking his golden gaze toward Xi Kang.

Katara scrutinized her fiancé with a frown, her forehead wrinkling together. "_Aang_...?"

Zuko motioned towards Xi Kang with uneasiness as he straightened. "An..._offer_...has come up."

Xi Kang's lips curled madly. She was excited and pleased that, even with her suggestive downplays, Fire Lord Zuko had fit the pieces together.

* * *

_I'm going to Hell_, she thought, lazily peeking to her left side and shifting to rest on her knees. She wasn't entirely sure why she was there, surrounded by the hues of olive and sepia, the earth-toned silks, the colors that undeniably repulsed her. In fact, color repulsed her in general. But that hardly mattered, because she was going to Hell. Which would probably be green, too, just to keep the irony alive.

The irony of ironies.

Well, maybe she wasn't going to Hell. Perhaps she could use her cunning to negotiate a way out, use some loophole to convince whomever awaited her that this was community service. A kind and kindred act, showcasing her docile humanity. After a quiet groan, Mai shook her head. It would _never _pass. Never. Mai was not known for her bleeding heart, or for any kind of heart. Even she was unconvinced that she would do such a thing merely for salvation. The reasons she would be here were few in number, and salvation wasn't even on the list. The afterlife, should it come soon, would never change that.

The first problem, though, irked her beyond impending doom—she had to decide _why _she was there. It had to be some unrivaled gain, something she could never obtain in the Fire Nation. That was her style—endurance for the gain, not for the service.

So, was it pity? Maybe, maybe not. She couldn't really bring herself to believe that. It was far too inconceivable when matched against her character. If anything, the snoring figure by her side took pity on her, not vice versa. His persona fit it well enough, when compared to her. And in her solemn moment of epiphany, Mai was given her answer. She frowned, calling out mentally _"New Answer!"_ She was staying not out of pity or vanity, but because she was trying to reclaim something of her old self, to discover the cynical, morose fighter she had once been—agile and sarcastic. And, as strange and as almost _wrong_ as it seemed, he gave her the momentary feeling of being herself again. The person she had been before her personal, meaningful sacrifice. That must be enough to get her somewhere after this life, hopefully.

Irritation rose in Mai upon remembering; she had promised to leave those thoughts dead and dark, never to resurface. They never did when _he_ was awake. However, when he _was_ awake, she found it hard to resist killing him on the spot, as odd as he was. Homicide wasn't going to earn her any points, though. Her humanity points were already low enough.

His snoring wavered, sharp intakes of congested breath, and Mai heard the small, bell-like sound of scratches against the silk. He really needed to cut his earth-infested fingernails. Though that was her job now, wasn't it? Keeping him out of trouble, or in the very least keeping him clean. A hunch appeared under the smooth sheets, brushing a wave of calm within her. Finally, he'd awaken.

"Avatars of Jupiter—" the old man mumbled incoherently.

"_Jupiter_?" Mai frowned. There he was again, babbling on about his strange, nonexistent worlds. He did that a lot. Called them a _Solar System_, whatever that was supposed to be. Most people ignored his snorting claims, coined his growing age for anything inconceivable he said. Which was mostly _everything_ he said. That left her with the inconvenience of apologizing, trying to explain what he meant, though her theories were just as abstract as anyone else's. He was random, totally and completely untraceable, unpredictable. Mai smiled.

"May you bless Saturn and send Mercury cabbage." He paused for a sharp cackle. "The _good_ stuff."

Yesterday he had blessed Mars, or something like that, claimed Pluto and Venus wanted to be friends with Uranus. As it were, most the things he said—most the irritating, impossible things—took her mind somewhere else, helped her to forget. That was something, if anything. It was _wrong_ to exploit his insanity, clearly, but she didn't really believe he was all that chemically imbalanced to begin with. Maybe he was just oddly... genius? Mai's snort that followed shortly after blended easily with his, as simple as breathing. His presence, likable or not, soothed her more than anything ever had; even _his_, and her sacrifice appeared more reasonable (the few times it did wash over her train of thought) when he was awake. She felt more... _alive_? Stupidly, it was true. The best truth she'd ever realized. The _easiest_, too. Every morning he didn't throw her out, claim that he was finally bored with her presence, a long, rare grin would push her cheeks up. Thus far, this smile greeted King Bumi every morning. It'd never once greeted _him_, though she had loved _him_.

A large, lion-like yawn filled in the silence. It didn't surprise Mai when the first heavy movement he made, after his hunch and _plop_ back into the mess of ugly sheets, was to take her hand in his. After all, didn't he need love too? Just like she did? It was warm and old like worn leather, tough and scarred from his fierce years (that were still occurring, Mai admitted wryly) as a mighty Earthbender. It wasn't alarming anymore to see the striking difference: her hand was soft, pale, and smooth, while his was rough and jagged. The company she shared with the king was just as impossibly odd as _his _was with a Waterbender. Not only in appearance, but also in custom. She hadn't asked, but she could only imagine that life had denied the king love, just as it had ripped hers away. They were both kindred souls - one of the few things Mai believed these days.

Bumi peered up at her for a moment, sleep caking his tear ducts. Mai made a face, disgusted but fairly content, and smothered his old face with her pillow. Another impossibly hideous, green pillow. He snorted again, popping madly through the air.

It did startle her that, without noticing, he'd tied his hands around her waist, pulling her down to his eye level. Most mornings he was just content to rest his head soundly in her lap. Apparently, he was mixing things up today. King Bumi had, after all, coined spontaneity. Mai blinked and then fixed her eyes on his, her glare searing with agitation. His grin touched each cheek, larger than she thought possible, sending ripples through his tired skin. Why didn't it just fall off? What held his epidermis together?

_Epidermis_, Mai thought wryly. It was a word Bumi taught to her. He was one of the few believers in a magic called science, a subject that explained the ways that things tick, how they work. Like his skin. What _did _hold it together? He hadn't answered that, only telling her that everybody had an _epidermis_ and that it worked as a shield from outside pathogens. _Pathogen_ was another word he taught her, among the list. Truthfully, his studies of "science" intrigued her. She questioned him often about his "discoveries," fiction or not, and enjoyed his complex, far-fetched theories and subject tests.

Somehow, the _epidermis_ seemed more reasonable a method for keeping out _pathogens_ that the accepted story - Lady Kaguya's special moonbeam magic. The old legend originated in the Water Tribes: Princess Kaguya of the moon would shed moonlight every night to protect the body from invading evil spirits. Or pathogens, as Bumi called them. Each nation had its own adaption of Kaguya, be it Kiyoshi, Yangchen, or Sozin, so why was the _epidermis _any different than an Avatar or Goddess sprinkling the people with supernatural dust? Mai frowned. She was beginning to understand, to even _accept_, Bumi's rambling as everyday, legitimate fact. Before Bumi, she'd never actually questioned many of the things that he called science. The world never made sense to her before, so making an effort to understand it only seemed vain.

Maybe she _was_ going to Hell? Staying with him, believing his conceivable yet unbelievable studies, was only sucking away the few points accumulated in her life collection. The only good points, which were the bare-minimum to start with. Hell, though, was one thing Bumi never questioned. He pressed that the Spirit World and its counterpart were very real and true concepts, untouched and unfazed by his thoughts of science. As he said, the more he studied the stars, the more he found himself believing in a higher power. So it was only natural that the idea became as grounded in him as the stars. _If Bumi's right_, Mai thought dryly, _I'm probably not going to Heaven_. That left only one option. Though they didn't speak of it much, Bumi took her salvation very seriously, and so did she.

"You cannot teach a man anything; you can only help him discover it in himself." After imparting his first direct wisdom of the day, the king abruptly released her waist, unceremoniously kicking the sheets over his burly limbs.

Mai, still laying over the blankets, watched Bumi with little interest.

His day as a king was remarkably similar to what _his_ had been as the Fire Lord. When she'd first arrived in Omashu, Bumi's advisers and guards shadowed them in every waking (and sometimes non-waking) moment. Mai was from the Fire Nation, so it made perfect sense... one of the rare things that did in Omashu. She was also a former ally of Princess Azula, not to be trusted. Scandalous talk flurried over the city about the elderly, yet still active, king taking in a young _mistress_. Mai shivered indignantly. She'd had trouble not ripping the throat out of the kitchen hand responsible for spreading that. Mai'd never so much as kissed the King of Omashu, and heaven forbid any more. She didn't allow the thought much more bearing, and soon it was gone. Talk eventually died down, once Bumi had taken Mai as his wife-to-be. Only happiness whispered through the kingdom now about their king finally settling down; someone _had_ to marry him, and the people of Omashu were saved from having to press their daughters now.

"Let's watch the stars tonight," Mai suggested in a bored tone. She had grown to love the stars.

* * *

© Disclaimer: We own nothing from Avatarverse;  
All characters, places, and quotes remain the intellectual and  
creative property of whoever they belong to, which, if you  
did not catch, is not us.

Courtney of Sumioney here! I think you have every right to know that I couldn't hate this chapter much more than I do now... and I'm sure the feeling on your part is mutual. This whole thing is a mess, but I hope it will make sense eventually. This is one of those retarded bridge chapters that will piece together with the next chapter. I would have written more, but the inspiration cut itself off from me, like a rich grandfather. And I have some explaining to do about the latter of the sections... Yes, the Bumai.

I know, and I agree with Suki who pointed it out, that most of us Avatarverse-ers are not ready for such a crack-pairing like Buma. But if this were the Kingdom Hearts section, things would be different. Bumai is: far-fetched, uncanon, and unequivocally crack. I wonder how many readers I will drive away with this pairing, but if you stick around I will try to let you know why Bumi needs love, and why Mai is the one needs to give it to him... not necessarily in just the physical way. But, seriously, put the pitch-forks down, man. If anything, you'll not throw up by the time PD is over when "Bumai" is ever mentioned again. _Hopefully_. I should also like to point out that Suki of Sumioney is 0% associated with Bumai, only the beta, of course. She thinks the pairing is too crack, and I agree. So, if you come after me in the night, spare her.

Oh, and so you know, Bumi is being molded after what we know of him from the series, and after Galileo.

And, just to further point out, SUMIONEY is three people. Suki, Mio and Courtney. And we all write in PD, so it's is a combined effort. For this chapter, because Suki and Mio were pretty busy, I wrote it entirely. I swear it will be different next chapter! Beta'd by the lovely Suki as always, whose grammar kicks Mr. Miyagi's butt! ... Read her amazing works! Her profile is linked via Sumioney's profile in "favorite authors" - Gray-rain skies. Got it? Sankyuu for reading this installment of PD!

Read + Review?

- Sumioney


	5. Decision

_Primary Days  
_written by Sumioney

Chapter 4: Decision

The resounding glares did nothing to settle the Fire Lord's stomach.

"_What_?" Aang blurted out at his side, surprise catching in his voice.

The current speaker of the house, General Won Lou, placed his hands on the table and drew himself into his full height. He was a man of short stature, but neither his appearance nor his commanding aura could be taken lightly. Won Lou's deep tenor warranted a certain amount of respect - he was, truly, a natural born leader of his people.

Zuko himself held nothing but reverence toward the gray-haired Firebender, even though he stood as a to the Fire Lord's absolute power. However, despite his prestige, what Won Lu was asking, what he _demanded, _was far too much.

"Tradition dictates it, my lord, in our nation."

"Tradition of an earlier century also demanded our conquest of the world, Won Lou, I should remind you." Zuko's resolve was steady under Won Lou's insistent gaze, though he masked it well. "And times are changing."

"True enough, Fire Lord – and yet…many who still believe in the old ways cannot help but offer their loyalty reluctantly."

"Treason?" Aang offered nervously, the concept foreign in his mind, with a Fire Lord and friend as honorable as Zuko in power. The growing Airbender recoiled at the idea.

"Maybe so, but the threat presents little danger to the throne. Not now, Avatar. However minute the issue, a solution can rectify any doubt."

"What you're asking is—" The baffled Fire Lord measured his voice, clenching and unclenching his hands to restrain his lesser vocabulary.

"—is perfectly feasible." Won Lou's voice was flat, as musical as a trombone while he spoke, as though they exchanged like-minded thoughts on Pai Sho. "No dishonor intended, Sir, but you are such a young leader. Youth blinds, and you cannot see the benefits now. Age has offered me many benefits that youth temporarily lacks."

Zuko's jaw clenched. He couldn't very well antagonize Won Lou, since the truth was so evident in his words. Youth did blind, and he was a blind Fire Lord. He would be, despite his Uncle's wisdom, until life had known him longer. Yet he could not sacrifice his friend – his dearest ally – to what he was uncertain of. Perhaps in age his thoughts would mirror themselves.

"That is a hefty risk, Won Lou," Zuko countered evenly. He could neither deny nor accept his subordinate's words, so he had to wonder – what could he do at all in this situation?

"Perhaps…" Another speaker stood in place, a lean and gangly man of a noble house. "But I should remind you, Fire Lord; we have humored your engagement to a Water Tribesman." Jon Li managed to sound scandalized in his regal whisper of, "A _southerner_, no less. You have tamed us with the validation that she is, indeed, suitable by rank, if not by birthplace, and we have bayed. Is this so much to request in return, Fire Lord?"

Zuko's gaze narrowed. It wouldn't have been, if they had demanded the marriage of any nobleman, of any soldier, or of anyone else. Marriage was such a small thing in comparison to validated trust. In his court, it was all just a matter of politics – a useless fight.

But this wasn't simply anyone else whose freedom was being taken away.

"I'm seventeen!" Aang pleaded suddenly, a strange, strangled shudder seizing hold of his body. His face still sat with an easy expression, untouched by the onslaught of meetings and speakers, of rules and requests, but the Fire Lord could clearly see the fear in those earthy eyes. The Avatar was afraid, but his could would never understand that concept. And that angered Zuko.

"And I was seventeen when married," Won Lou negated.

To this, the Avatar had nothing to say. Aang's shoulders slumped, and a long line drew across his face. He was only a child; he would probably be frozen at twelve forever.

"She is from a prestigious house, as you know, Fire Lord. Her father has always served you diligently and loyally, unwavering in his drive for our nation. A perfect example when there were so…few. On Ping, if I am not mistaken, is also your highest ranked adviser. That is the very same position Lady Ursa's father held in your father's cabinet."

"Yes," Zuko agreed stiffly, annoyed by the comparison. "This is all true, but the Avatar is not bound to the Fire Nation. He is the sole heir to his nation, of his bending."

"So you would have him wed and procreate with a women of, say, the Earth Kingdom, with less antagonism?" Won Lou asked earnestly, indifferent to the flush burning in the Airbender's dimpled cheeks.

"No…" Zuko weighed each word uncertainly. "I might be…more pleased that he settle with someone of another nation perhaps, but that is certainly not my choice. The Avatar, Won Lou, is his own person, just as powerful – no, more so – than myself. Our nation is no more his home than the Earth Kingdom or the Water Tribes. Why do you ask?"

Won Lou had found a solid angle of argument. "Tell me, Fire Lord. What is the opposite element of Air, now that you have pointed it out?"

"Earth, of course. Everybody knows—"

"Earth is the consensus, yes? Yes." Won Lou wheeled around to peer at the audience, a congregation of all nations: Earth, Fire, Water, and the last of the Air. "So would it be too far-fetched to believe that, should the Avatar bear children with a woman from the Earth Kingdom, birthing an Airbender would be near impossible?"

"How do you mean?" Jon Li approached.

"It is hardest for the Airbending Avatar to bend Earth, as the stories say. Earth, in essence, negates Air. So if the Avatar had a child with an Earthbender, or any woman of the Earth Kingdom, the chances of conceiving an Airbender are slim at best."

Zuko stole a glance at his friend, the Avatar. Though usually blissfully unaware, the Airbender, through half-lidded denial, smoldered the two men discussing his lineage. Despite the painfully true words, the conversation veered haplessly past both Aang's and Zuko's line of comfort. The entire court had begun to resemble the auctioneers Zuko sometimes saw hawking at street corners – but rather than auctioning off priceless heirlooms or precious stones, it was the Avatar's fate that was up for grabs.

"And the Water Tribes are out of the question—"

"And why is that?" A third voice, a falsetto mingled with ire, rose from a Water dignitary, a woman appropriately cloaked in varying shades of aqua. Her presence, though small, was every bit as commanding as Won Lou's. "What is wrong with the Avatar marrying a girl from our tribes? You don't have to pretend you respect our nation, you've expressed your opinions with _more _than enough clarity, but you _should _have the ability to justify our seclusion on this matter. Marrying the Avatar is an honor – one that cannot be accepted by just anyone."

"Your daughters," Jon Li intercepted, "are already limited in number, are they not? To waste even one is hardly an option, even if he is the Avatar. You have already surrendered one – a first generation southern Waterbender _and _crown at that – to another nation. To our Fire Lord, in fact. Are you prepared to give another daughter?"

"She would need to be a Waterbender, of course. I hardly think your people are ready to sacrifice your dwindling number of benders for the Avatar's sake."

"We are unwilling to do so, yes," the tribeswoman admitted, pushing back the fire. "However, that woman of the noble house – your preference for the Avatar's bride…what does her name offer the Avatar?"

Aang sighed sharply, resigning to let the agents discuss his future. He was fearful that interference may cause more upheaval, so he would only stand idly by, shoulder to shoulder with Zuko, and wait for the storm to blow over. After all, they couldn't really make him marry a girl he didn't want to. They couldn't, could they? This was not his nation – even if that didn't seem to deter any of the debater – and so he didn't need to follow their customs. Right?

Zuko, at his right, appeared equally at odds with the turmoil simmering between the three nations. Surely the Avatar was allowed to be the weaver of his own destiny, after he had rescued the fate of the entire world?

"Her name alone," Jon Li, facing the rows of Water Tribesman, squared his shoulders proudly, "is enough, I think. In status, she is among the elite of our daughters. Her father retains an exclusive membership in our Fire Lord's cabinet, and her house has gratefully put the offer forward first."

"Does she bend?"

"To our keen advantage, she does not. Thus the chances of producing a second Airbender are more likely. The Fire element is not present to lessen the chances."

Aang, for the first time after months of meetings and deliberations, felt his blood turn to ice. The possibility crashed over him at Jon Li's words. When the future of his people – his very self – was dependent upon this decision, how could he deny it? How could he refuse the chance to bring the Air temples to life again? To see once again, among the bison and lemurs gliding through the air, Airbenders soaring through the clouds?

The answer was simple.

He couldn't.

-- - --

The doors opened, and Katara immediately jumped to her feet. Near her, Toph remained seated on the floor, exhaling a puff of breath that stirred her bangs while she casually crossed her ankles. As the elders poured out into the hall in slow, steady procession, they all tossed disgusted looks at the blind girl's insolence, but the Earthbender couldn't care less. She was too busy concealing her worry behind milky-gray eyes, and Katara almost wished that she had the same candor as she hastily bowed to each and every representative, the anxiety eating her up inside.

Zuko and Aang were the last to file out.

"How'd it go?" she asked, her voice sharp and colored with slight hysteria as the council begin to ebb away down the hall. Her rush of words earned her a few backwards glances, but she could hardly think about upholding her dignity when Zuko's face looked so frustrated. She stepped forward to touch his shoulder, but he held up his hand in a rustle of movement, and she stiffened to see him turn away from her.

"Toph," he said shortly, and Katara felt a pang of injustice as the Earthbender snorted and jumped to her feet.

"_Really_ know how to set the mood there, Sparky," Toph muttered with impatience of her own as she shrugged off Zuko's guiding hand and stomped down the hall. Zuko didn't look back, threading his fingers tiredly through his hair as he slumped his shoulders and headed towards a separate palace wing after Toph.

Indignantly, Katara clenched her jaw and whirled on Aang. "What the hell was—?!" Her voice fell away in an instant. The distress on Aang's face was so heartbreaking that, for a long, awkward moment, she couldn't find it within herself to even reach out and touch him. She just stood, staring, as her closest friend watched his feet and tried to fight the tears pooling in his eyes. "Aang…"

"I can't do such a thing," he said softly, lifting his head to gaze at her with earnest eyes. Her gaze softened sadly, and she touched his cheek to wipe away the tears glistening on his lashes. "I _won't_, Katara."

"Calm down, Aang. Tell me what's wrong." She smiled with a good deal of effort, trying so pour into him some of that same cheer he so thoughtlessly exuded. But Aang wasn't smiling in this moment. Sniffling, he lifted an arm wrapped in his sacred Airbender dress and wiped his nose without elegance, reminding her of the same boy who, five years back, shouted with joy as Appa lifted them into the sky. She felt like a mother again, felt like she was of some _use _again in this big, grand palace, and with tears of her own she suddenly and fiercely pulled her friend into her chest, resting her cheek on his head. "Okay. It's okay. You can cry if you want to, Aang. You don't have to pretend around me."

Shaking hands balled up wrinkles of handfuls blue fabric at her back, and painfully she closed her eyes as Aang began to sob. She hadn't an earthly idea of what was wrong with him, but she was suddenly angry at, of all people, Zuko, for ever bringing him into a meeting that caused the boy such grief. Soothingly she rubbed the boy's back, and with gentle sounds she tried to hush the boy who had grown so used to taking care of everyone else that he forgot to help himself. Her teeth found her bottom lip, and she squeezed him tight as he hummed and sighed out disjointed sobs, his tears wetting her shoulder as he clung to her tight and refused to let go.

"It's okay. It's going to be okay."

Only now did she realize how much she'd missed her friend. Since they'd gone their separate ways, Aang hadn't come to Katara, and Katara hadn't had time for Aang. They kept their hearts suspended in tentative friendship on either side of the world, with messenger hawks bearing letters across the waters every now and again so that they didn't forget one another. But Aang had been busy mending his home and reshaping the Earth Kingdom, and Katara had been pulled back and forth on a string between Water Tribe and Fire Nation. They hadn't had breath enough for more than a "how do you do?" and five years later it was only now hitting Katara. Her tears started to fall faster as she pressed Aang closer in her arms.

"Let's go for a walk," she managed to say with difficulty, her arms still shaking around the Avatar's middle. She was sure that once both felt safe enough to let go of each other, that would happen, too.

-- - --

"Marriage." Katara rubbed the bridge of her nose tiredly as beside her Aang skipped a rock across the earth. He cringed when, with accidental power, it dented one of the stone walls surrounding the palace garden, and Katara opened her eyes to see a crack spiderweb around the middle of the barrier. She laughed slightly and shot him a reproving look. "Now, Aang, there's no need to take it out on the palace."

With a look of impatience he forced out a sigh and flopped down on the grass, his eyebrows twitching as he folded his legs close to his body. Katara lowered herself more delicately at his side, touching his shoulder, and Aang felt warmth spread out from that spot, filling up his chest and his broken heart. His body again began to tremble near her presence. How could he make such a decision when she was still here, holding him and healing away all the hurt with only a look, word, and brush of her fingertips?

"I can't, Katara. I know the Avatar exists for the good of all nations, and so he has to make the choices that benefit others before himself, but—"

"Don't you dare say that," Katara snapped, and Aang turned toward her with shock-widened eyes. She was furious. "Don't you ever say that again. You're a person, Aang, and your heart is your own. It's not the world's to possess. Whom you choose to love is _your _decision, and a bunch of crotchety old men wearing dresses can't _ever _make you do otherwise." Aang smiled tentatively at her, but he knew she could read his doubt and pain anyway. Her expression fell, and with glowing frustration she turned away from him and crossed her arms. "This is stupid. Do you even _know _this girl?"

"Her name sounds familiar," he allowed with a confused expression. "On Ji. I think I've met her before."

Slowly, Katara nodded. "I think I have to. Though I can't say when. There have been so many people we've helped," she added with a nostalgic laugh, and her stare fell away to her hands resting in her lap. With a sigh, Aang leaned against her shoulder and buried his face in her sleeve, and with renewed purpose Katara lifted her hand and patted his head. All he needed was this, even if she was engaged, even if she didn't love him anymore. He only needed Katara, and having someone take her place was unforgivable.

"I'll only ever love one person, Katara," he said softly, and she stiffened beneath his words. His eyes closed tightly, because he knew his words caused her trouble, but he couldn't bear keeping his thoughts inside him any longer. "So how can I marry this girl? I won't betray you."

"Aang…" Katara turned her body and took hold of his shoulders, gently pushing him back at arm's length. "Being forced to marry is a bad thing, but refusing to ever open your heart again is just as bad. You can't…hold onto the past." Her voice was catching as she remembered their nights together, tracing their fates through the stars, holding each other's hands as they laughed about their adventures. Aang felt a sharp pain slice through his chest. "You have to let things go, remember?"

"I won't." He shook his head angrily. "Not you. Never you."

"You'll only hurt yourself," she said softly. "And me." Gingerly she placed her hands upon his, and he looked up to see her eyes watching him beseechingly. "I want to see you happy, Aang. Not like this. Not sad and hurt and confused."

"Katara…"

"Aang." She tilted her head at him, smile on her face, and then looked forward toward a tall tree towering over the garden and casting its shadow across their clothes. At their backs turtleducks squawked and splashed in the sunlight, and Aang was suddenly struck by how peaceful the Fire Palace felt. Years ago he would never have imagined sitting here, taking in the glow of the sunlight burning over the high, stone walls. He would never have imagined a banished prince reigning as Fire Lord over a slowly-awakening world.

Her never would have imagined that Katara wouldn't be his to cherish.

His eyes fell to his lap as she squeezed his hand tightly. "I'm asking you to let me go." He looked up with tear-filled eyes to see her smiling sadly at the wide trunk of the tree, her gaze trailing up to the branches and the birdsong hidden amidst the leaves. "I would never want to cause you any kind of pain. And you can be sure that I'm happy. Zuko may be stupid at times. And oblivious. And unfeeling. And _infuriating_…" Aang laughed a little, in both surprise and discomfort, as the rage flashed openly across her face. Catching herself, she blushed in embarrassment and smiled. "But I love him." The Avatar felt his heart crack further, and with a downward glance he folded his fingers into his orange-and-yellow-colored robes. A tear slipped down his cheek as she touched his shoulder. "I hope that, one day, you can forgive me for that."

"I could never hate you, Katara," he said quietly.

"That's not what I said." Looking up, he caught the depths of her sadness pooling in her eyes, and he could tell just how much she blamed herself for falling out of love with him. Hastily he reached forward, catching her hand, and with that small, tender gesture she broke apart. Lifting her left hand to cover her eyes, she tried and failed to push back all her grief. "I never meant to hurt you," she pleaded, her mouth twisting into a pained grimace. "I'm so sorry, Aang. You wouldn't be in this situation if I hadn't—!"

"Katara, please don't cry." Helplessly he wound his arms around her waist, and she collapsed in on him as she gasped into her hand and let her tears drum against her lap. Aang's heart ached as he inhaled the scent of her hair, her skin, and desperately he wanted to kiss her one more time as she leaned heavily against him. But he couldn't betray Zuko. He couldn't ask that of her. He had to stop causing everyone so much hurt on his behalf. "I'll consider the engagement."

Startled, she lifted her chin and searched his eyes, tears still dripping from her lashes. "Aang, n—"

"It could be good for me," he said with a forced laugh, disbelieving his words even as he rubbed that back of his head. "I'll only hurt you and Zuko and everyone else if I stay sad, Katara, so it won't be too much trouble if I at least meet On Ji. Besides, I'm not agreeing to marry her." His eyes softened, and he patted her hand. "It has to be for love, right?"

This time, Katara sniffled, dragging her sleeve across her face. "When did you start comforting me, anyway?" she muttered with a halfhearted laugh. "Honestly. What good am I?"

"A lot of good, Katara," Aang said gently, and she smiled from behind her arm. "I'll always need you."

"Yeah. Same here." Affectionately she rubbed her hand over his tattooed head, and with a smile he tugged at his sleeve, vaulting himself to his feet with a rush of air.

"Let's go find everyone. Zuko and Toph must be driving each other nuts by now."

"_I _don't feel sorry for him," she muttered with an air of indifference as Aang helped her to her feet, and the boy chuckled as she brushed off the grass clinging to her dress. She was still as stubborn as ever. "But yeah." She smiled a little wider as she laced her hands with Aang's, and the Avatar couldn't hold back his beaming grin. "Let's go."

-- - --

On Ji had imagined this too many times in her fantasies. She'd dreamed of the feelings that she would have, of the words that would be said. In truth, she'd hoped that the occasion would never actually materialize, because each moment that she'd envisioned was never pleasant; not once did her fabrications part on a sweet note.

Briefly, she wondered which dream this would most greatly resemble.

"Hide." The name slipped through On Ji's lips hesitantly. He looked the same, maybe stronger or taller, but he was still Hide. Still the embodiment of all her frustrations, still the man she pictured when angry tears stung her face. She had changed more than he had; On Ji did not need a mirror to know that, to _feel _the alterations simmering through her. Hide's appraisal of her meant he also noticed.

"On Ji?" Surprise colored his tone.

On Ji realized that she, too, had fallen into stupor, for both of them stood unmoving for a long while.

"On Ji." Hide was the first to break the silence, enunciating her name with more comfort. "…the Avatar, hmm?"

On Ji could not meet his eyes, so she hid her thoughts under her chocolate bangs. One, she did not want to fight with Hide–he couldn't have been back in the capitol for very long–and two, there was no antagonism in his voice. It was just resonant with wonder; she knew he could hardly grasp such a concept, because she was just as incredulous herself. But now she wondered which of them was the more shocked: Hide, seeing her as the Avatar's bride-to-be, or On Ji, viewing her past boyfriend as though he was a ghost haunting her footsteps. While their split had been amicable, she hadn't seen Hide since he had graduated. She'd heard, by way of mouth, that he had accepted a prime position in the Fire Army, but she hadn't known whether it was truth or rumor until now, where she could see for herself his uniform billowing proudly in the wind.

It seemed that even after so many years had passed, they were still polar opposites. Freedom had appealed more to her, whereas control had gotten the better of him.

"Yeah…I think. Maybe. But how…did you know about…_that_?" On Ji still couldn't muster the strength to meet his eyes–she could hardly reconcile the circumstances herself.

"Oh, you know. It's kind of a big deal right now; all the soldiers are talking about it. It's really _annoying_," the soldier scoffed, easing both hands behind his neck to emphasize his indifference.

"Yeah." On Ji gave a little smile as she lifted her head, pushing back her bangs. Hide frowned and averted his eyes, color coming into his cheeks. "Do you remember my aunt? Apparently she's the conspirator behind it all. I mean, isn't that a little… I don't know. Rude, maybe?" On Ji had not realized how badly she'd longed to vent until now, as she opened her mouth. She was not set against the idea of marrying Kuzon-the Avatar–but she had not labored for it like her aunt and mother. She felt betrayed, in some small way, and she could't exactly speak of it with her girlfriends. Soon enough they would be like everyone else, jeering and squealing about the prospects and about children and about wedding plans. She wouldn't begrudge them of their excitement, of course, but the whole ordeal was beginning to grow tiresome. "They just waltzed right up to _the _Fired Lord _himself_ and offered me up like barter, it really is–"

"I don't really care, you know." Hide's demeanor abruptly changed, his hands balled into clenched fists, rather than the picture of apathy he had relayed just moments before. "I don't really want to know about you and the Avatar."

"_Hide_," On Ji protested to a passing stranger. She blinked, as did he, and suddenly she realized that Hide had vanished into the roaming ocean of pedestrians. In his place a nameless face stood, and with embarrassment she quickly apologized. As she bowed down with swiftness, her hair swaying into her face, the frazzled man, after a last, suspicious squint, left her also.

"Hide…" she murmured softly, mournfully, scanning the crowd as she pushed up on her toes. No matter how determinedly she cast her gaze, however, that arrogant flash of uniform was indistinguishable in such a wash of color and sound. Her old friend was gone in a rush of anger and resentment, and she hadn't even gotten to say goodbye.

With a troubled glance to her feet, she let the pedestrians shove past her as she balled up her dress in her hands. Her heart hurt, and she felt so, incredibly lonely.

This was not like she had planned.

* * *

© Disclaimer: We own nothing from Avatarverse;  
All characters, places, and quotes remain the intellectual and  
creative property of whoever they belong to, which, if you  
did not catch, is not us.

Suki: So ignore Courtney when she says that her sections are bad, because they are quite awesome and really inspired me on what to write. Considering the fact that I've been in a slight rut when it comes to my own work (time is a killer), I was grateful that she started up this story again. It was fun, coming back to Avatar, even if I can't seem to write it on my own. So, I hope my attempts at helping Courtney along with this story will be received well. Hope you guys like it!

Courtney: I am proud to announce that most of the chapter belongs to Suki. It's so exciting to see her writing (rhyme unintentional). She is truly amazing, which you should _all_ by now know. The first and last (the worst) sections are mine. And sorry about the whole Hide thing; I'd planned to make it bigger... but it died, got it?! Put down the forks and the torches. I know. I know. It's very, very... ew. Just forget me and focus on the lovely Suki forever. Hopefully Mio will join us next time.

Read + Review?

- Sumioney


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